


On Quiet Wings

by ghostlymiri58



Category: Gangsta. (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Connie and Marco are #goals, Doug tries to be ~cool~, Eventual Smut, Eventual relationship, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It's Ergastulum people die my dudes, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse/use, Reader is a BAMF, Reader is a sassy little shit, Reader suffers from anxiety/panic attacks, Slow-ish? build, domestic abuse, like just one brief mention of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-27 03:04:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlymiri58/pseuds/ghostlymiri58
Summary: Ergastulum is a shit place to live, but a great place to disappear. The trouble with disappearing, though, is that the walls have ears, and the streets have eyes.For 15 years, a woman with an unusual past has made a quiet living outside the walls of Ergastulum. Upon her return to the city, she meets an equally odd pair of individuals. One event after the next, finds her being drawn into a complex system of horrors and vendettas. Will she be able to finally put an end to the past which haunts her?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome! I hope you enjoy this fic, it's given me many sleepless hours and I wouldn't change that for the world.  
> If you're coming from my tumblr, hooray! You found me!
> 
>  
> 
> All characters related to Gangsta belong to Kohske.

Ergastulum was not the kind of place you wanted to be if you were hoping for a nice, quiet life. The sheer number of unsavory characters was enough to make one's blood run cold. And yet, here you were. In the last place you thought you would be. Once, it had been home. But now, as you navigated the complicated side streets, it all felt...colder. The glow you remembered from your childhood seemed to be shadowed by the gloom of something you couldn't quite put your finger on. Perhaps it was the rise in power the Four Fathers had come to grasp. Some would say it was the influx of Twilights that grew in number every day. You weren't quite sure.

Peering up at the bleak gray sky, you narrowed your eyes as you felt a cool breeze slip past you. _Looks like it might rain. Smells that way, too._ Sighing to yourself, you pulled your hood tighter over your head. Readjusting the straps on your backpack, you continued walking down the narrow street. You would pass the occasional person on these lonely paths. The men would give you sidelong glances, throwing the odd comment or catcall your way. You focused on the street before you, ignoring them. The women would rarely spare you a look, intent on traveling without delay.

As you neared your destination, the sky darkened, a sign of an impending storm. Bright flashes of lightning streaked between the clouds. A charge was building in the air, you could feel it in your bones. A few blocks later, you came to stop below a covered set of stairs. Your heart leapt into your throat as you stared up to the top. _I'm finally here. Home._ Climbing the staircase, you tugged your hood down, watching your feet on each step. An odd habit of yours, one you'd had since childhood. Never could seem to break it, though.

When you had reached the top, you finally looked up to find two doors on either side of the hall, facing each other directly. Remembering what the landlord had said, you produced your apartment key from your pocket and let yourself in to the door on the right. As you stood in the doorway, you did a quick scan of the main room. Lost in your thoughts, you completely missed the sound of the door opening behind you. So when a large hand found its way to your shoulder, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Spinning around, you almost collided with the man standing in front of you.

Your gaze raked up a broad pale chest, past the sturdy neck to the stubbled jawline. When your eyes met with one strikingly piercing blue eye, you felt yourself get sucked into his shocked, yet playful stare. A mischievous smirk tugged at the man's lips, and he raised his hand to push his long, ash-blond hair out of his face.  
"Well hello there, I didn't realize our new neighbor was moving in quite so soon," he said, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin, "Assuming that you ARE our new neighbor, and not an exceptionally brazen thief?"

You shook yourself out of your dazed state, extending your hand towards the man. "Uh, yeah. Yes, I'm the new tenant. Sorry 'bout almost crashing into you."  
He enveloped your slender hand in his large, calloused one. His grip was firm, but not threatening. His grin took on an overly charming tone, and you knew already that he was going to be troublesome.

"Worrick Arcangelo, and it's an exceeding pleasure to meet such a beauty," the man said, squeezing your hand warmly.

"(F/N)(L/N). Nice to meet you," you stated somewhat flatly, not allowing the man to rile you, "I should be getting inside." He released your hand, nodding, the charming smile never leaving his face.

As you were about to turn to enter your apartment, you noticed another man appear in the doorway behind Worick. He was of slightly smaller stature than the blond, but had a much broader chest. You could see the neatly defined muscles in his neck and shoulders. Dark black hair offset his light beige skin. His deep brown gaze flicked from the other man to you. He regarded you with a look of bored suspicion and a hint of surprise. Worick followed your line of sight over his shoulder, to the man behind him. His bright smile lightened even more.

"Ah, hey Nic. I was just introducing myself to our gorgeous new neighbor, (Y/N). Isn't she a cutie?" the blonde said, his cheeky grin returning. The dark haired man narrowed his eyes at his friend, before returning his gaze to you. He raised his hands, making a few short gestures in the air. You were shocked once more. _Sign language? Don't see that very often._ His eyes narrowed again and he looked to Worick pointedly. Worick turned to you, "Oh, Nicolas says hello." Several more gestures to the blond. "Right. We do need to get going," he said to the other man, "Well it was very nice to meet you, (Y/N). If you ever need anything, we're right across the hall."

Worick smiled warmly at you, charisma threatening to leak from his wide grin. Nicolas stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He met your gaze as he passed by you and Worick, quickly shifting his eyes away as he descended down the stairs ahead of his friend. The blond man locked the door, turning to bid you one more farewell grin. You watched as he met his friend waiting in the street. Worick gave you a large wave as he walked away. Nicolas raised his eyes once more up to you, pausing for a moment before following Worick. You couldn't ignore the odd feeling that settled in your chest when the quiet man looked at you. You shook your head, deciding to think about it later, and finally entered your new home.

* * *

 

 

After only three months in your apartment, you had already learned something about your Benriya neighbors: They were exceptionally busy. And exceptionally loud. For there being only one speaking person, you couldn't believe the amount of noise they could make. Worick certainly made up for the lack of sound on Nicolas' part. You had seen them briefly in passing several times in the last couple weeks. Worick always regarded you with a warm, cheerful smile and occasionally roaming hands when he would sling his arm around your shoulders. He would often earn himself rather hard smacks on the back of his head or his hands. At which point you would glance at Nicolas who, undoubtedly, was always standing nearby. You could've sworn you'd seen a glimpse of a smirk on his otherwise stoic face. But it was always gone too quickly to know for sure. 

You weren't sure you wanted to know exactly what it was that your neighbors did for a living, but it wasn't hard to guess. Not when everyone you met referred to Nicolas Brown and Worick Arcangelo as the Handymen. Often the pair would return from whatever job they had taken covered in dirt and blood. Nicolas was the most likely to be covered in freshly patched wounds, his katana always hanging from his belt. He was a hard man to read. You could never seem to figure out the strange looks he gave you when he noticed you watching him. His dark eyes would narrow momentarily before he shifted them to something else.

You had managed to find yourself a halfway decent job waiting tables at a restaurant near the middle of town, Blue King. It wasn't much, but it paid your bills. And it was one of few places that would serve Twilights, which struck a huge chord within you. The owners, Tony and Aronas Novak, were brothers, and had managed to make their little establishment quite popular in the few short years since their opening, in spite of their mixed clientele. In appearance, the men were rather imposing; they were the spitting image of how you imagined Norse gods might look.

Tony towered over most men, with a broad chest and thick arms, indicative of many years' hard labor. His large, brooding stature was offset by a brilliant smile and the booming laughter that was often heard from the man. Aron, while standing only  _slightly_  shorter, still made an impressive figure. Slightly more reserved than his brother, his exuberance shone through his passion in the kitchen. As the head chef, Aron made sure that every dish heading out to a customer was the absolute pinnacle of perfection. Yet, while he demanded excellence of his cuisine, he was warm-hearted by nature, reassuring his staff of their talents. These men had welcomed you into their close-knit little family, and you were grateful for their offer, as well as their acceptance of all races.

While Tony and Aron may have been among the more  _tolerant_  individuals in the city, the bleak reality was that many, were not. The rumors and bigoted opinions that floated around town regarding Tags was absolutely appalling, reminding you too much of the chaos from your youth. It made you sick each time you'd overhear customers' conversations about how they should all be eliminated. And each time, you would be forced to plaster the best fake smile you could muster to prevent yourself from rearranging their faces.

On one particularly slow day, you had the unfortunate pleasure of serving a table of men that were quite loud and obnoxious. The group weren't regulars by any means, but you'd definitely seen them all before. Most of them had knocked back several drinks already, adding to their volatile nature. Typically, they were harmless; this day was different. They were ruthlessly pestering a young man and woman at the table next to them. The dog tags hanging from the couples' necks were painfully obvious.

"Why don't you fuckin' mongrels go find a dumpster to eat out of?" "Yeah, should you be so far from your pig pen?" The men at the table shook with raucous laughter. "Hey, sweetheart, why don't you come with us? We'll show you a good time. Be real gentle with ya." Another man at the table spoke directly to the female Twilight, whose face filled with fear and shame. Both continued to try to eat their meal in peace, but it was becoming hard for them to ignore the rude men beside them. When one of the offending individuals started to approach their table, they both stiffened in anticipation. The man leaned over the table, blocking the woman from her partner's view. "Didn't ya hear me? I said you should come give us a good time. We'll put that hole between your legs to good use." She visibly shook with terror. Neither Twilight wanted to cause a disturbance nor get into an altercation with a Normal.

You, however, had had enough. As the lecherous man placed his hand on the woman's shoulder, you were at his side in an instant. Gripping his wrist and roughly pulling it away from the terrified woman, you poured as much venom into your voice as you could muster. "I think it's time for you and your friends to leave. Now." The man's eyes flashed with rage as he looked down at you. "What the hell did you just say to me, bitch? You think you can put your hands on me as you please?" He slapped you hard across the face, your head snapping to the side. He tried to wrench his hand from your grasp, but you tightened your grip fiercely until you heard a loud pop followed by the unmistakable crunch of bone. The shock on his face was evident as you released him. Shock was quickly replaced by pain as he howled, holding his broken wrist gingerly in his other hand.

The other men at the table all stood abruptly, their chairs clattering loudly on the ground. Your blood was at it's boiling point. In your muted rage, you pinned them all with a sinister glare, and they visibly shuddered like it was nobody's business. They gathered their belongings and stormed out of the business as one. The injured man paused in the doorway long enough to throw one last warning at you. "Don't think I'm gonna forget about this, bitch."

Rolling your eyes, you turned to the young Twilight couple. Awed appreciation was painted plainly on their faces. Their voices were lowered as they gave their thanks and offered to pay for the bills the men had left. You gave them a small smile and shook your head, saying you would take care of it. Returning to the large table, you set to the task of cleaning up and setting the chairs straight again. After the couple had left, you were thankful there wasn't anyone else there as you laid your throbbing cheek on the counter. Closing your eyes, you thought for some time about the jackass with the newly broken wrist. _Stupid. There's no way this isn't gonna come back to bite me in the ass._  Aron came up to the front briefly, telling you he was going out back for a quick smoke break. He eyed your position suspiciously, but said nothing when you gave him a thumbs-up, keeping your face pressed to the cool counter-top. Hearing the chime of the bell above the front door, you finally lifted you head. "Welcome to Blue King. Take a seat wherever you like," you said, lazily grabbing a couple menus from under the counter.

When you opened your eyes, you were shocked to see Nic and Worick standing in front of you. Both Benriya men looked mildly amused at your bored antics. An embarrassed flush painted your face, and you shot up from your seat. "Oh, uh hey, guys. Fancy seeing you here," you squeaked out, mentally cursing yourself. A cheesy smile spread across Worick's face, and the corners of Nic's mouth raised briefly. "We've heard so many good things about this place, thought we'd come give it a try," the blond said, lifting a hand to readjust his eye-patch and brush his hair out of his face. They approached the table closest to the counter, taking their seats across from each other. You handed them the menus and pulled your pad out of your apron. "So what can I get you to drink?" You asked, pen at the ready. Worick chose a whiskey on the rocks, and Nic gestured his choice to his friend. "Mineral water...so, Perrier, right?" You said before Worick could relay the message to you. He seemed taken aback that you had caught onto to Nic's signing. You glanced at the raven haired man to see a look of surprise on his face as well. You felt a flush creeping up your neck again as you explained to him, "I, uh, I've been learning a little in my free time." He regarded you with an impressed look, before nodding in agreement.

As you grabbed the men's beverages, you could hear Worick speaking to Nic in a quiet voice, too low for you to hear. Approaching their table, drinks in hand, you set them down in front of the pair. "Decide what you want yet, boys?" Nic took a long drink from the bottle, waiting while Worick gave you his order. His dark eyes watched your full lips as you read the order back to the blond, before they slid up to the growing red mark on your cheek. He narrowed his eyes, and glanced at his friend. Worick was watching him with a slightly confused look. Nic looked back at you and signed his order. You blinked before scribbling on your pad and signing it back to him to make sure you had gotten it right. You beamed as he nodded. Before you turned to take the order to the kitchen, Nicolas gently wrapped his fingers around your wrist. You pinned him with a surprised look; this was the first time he'd ever touched you directly. He let go, quickly pointing at his cheek before signing, <What happened?> You stiffened suddenly, feeling Worick's eyes also spot the deepening red patch on your face.

You gave a strained smile. "Had a little disagreement with a customer earlier today," you explained, signing as you spoke. "Some jackass decided he wanted to harass one of my Twilight patrons. Slapped me across the face when I told him to leave her alone." Nicolas' eyes narrowed and a dark expression spread across his face. <Want us to take care of it?> You shook your head, a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth. "Nah, don't worry. I broke his fuckin' wrist." Worick busted out laughing, slapping his hand on his knee. "Damn, girl. I'd watch my ass from now on if I was him," he guffawed, wiping a tear from his good eye. You grinned as you left to give the kitchen the orders. Nic found that he couldn't help but notice the fluid way you moved as you walked. You waited patiently while Aron glanced over the paper briefly before smiling. "Ah, the Benriya must be here." The shock on your face spoke your unasked question. "Those two order the same shit every time." A small smile spread across your face, and you chuckled lightly.

After a short wait, their food was ready. Carefully balancing the plates on your arms, you made your way to the table. The men were enjoying their drinks in a pleasant silence, though you didn't miss the way Worrick's eyes lit up in anticipation when he saw you. After making sure they didn't need anything for the moment, you disappeared once more into the kitchen. Aron gave you a small temporary ice pack, and gently directed you to sit down and use it for a few minutes. Once the time was up, you discarded it, and headed back to the front of the restaurant.

Nic glanced at you as you appeared again, maintaining eye contact as he raised his drink to his lips. When he cocked a brow, you squeaked, realizing you were staring and hurried to busy yourself. As you looked away, you missed his lopsided grin. Worick observed his partner with a confused expression, turning to find you busily wiping down the bar-top. He didn't fail to notice the blush creeping up your neck and smiled to himself.

Occasionally checking on the boys' drinks, you kept yourself occupied to keep yourself from watching them too much. You were dutifully organizing the glasses behind the bar when you heard chairs scraping on the floor. Looking over your shoulder, Nicolas was tugging his jacket on as Worick stretched his arms above his head. "Oh, man. Another good meal under the belt. Give my compliments to the chef, (Y/N), would ya?" A cheeky grin split his mouth as a devious glint shone in his eye. You rolled your eyes and gave him a small, "Of course, Worick," in response, making your way to the other side of the counter. As you gathered the empty plates and dirty silverware, you felt eyes boring into the back of your head.

Having gathered up everything off the table, you turned to find Nicolas watching you with an unreadable expression. Worick laid money on the bar-top for their bill and made his way towards the door, the bell chiming as he went to wait in the street for Nic. The dark haired man approached the bar, noticing you were putting away the money. "Want me to tell the chef thanks for you, too?" You asked, looking up from the register. He shook his head minutely, his gaze focused on your injured cheek. He raised a hand to your face, lightly grazing the skin around the wound. "You need to put ice on it. It's gonna bruise." His deep voice was gruff and slightly broken as he met your eyes again. Your heart throbbed suddenly as he gently stroked your cheek. There was a brief softness in his gaze, but it was gone almost instantly. You nodded, stunned speechless. He held your gaze for a moment longer, turning on his heel towards the door.

Your eyes followed him as he met his friend outside. Worick gave an animated wave through the window as he walked away. Nicolas gave you one final look before following after the other man. You continued to stare out the window in an almost dazed state for some time, resting your hands where Nic's fingers had been. Aron came out from the back, reminding you it was almost time to close. When you jumped, he apologized for startling you, observing the faint blush that had settled on your cheeks. He chuckled softly to himself, handing you the keys to the front door. You grabbed them distractedly, hurrying to lock up and get things organized for the morning crew. Plucking your bag from underneath the bar, you headed out the back door with Aron. He walked you to the street in front of the business, bidding you safe travels before heading in the opposite direction.

* * *

 

When you arrived home, you could hear Worick laughing from the street below. Glancing up, you saw Nic leaning against the wall beside the window. The black tank he wore showed the edges of a tribal tattoo splayed across his shoulders. He was focused on whatever Worick was saying, so he didn't notice you at first. After a few moments, he flicked his eyes over his shoulder at you. You stiffened, realizing you'd been caught. You raised your hand in a brief wave, hurrying to climb the stairs to your apartment. Nic's gaze followed you as you rushed to the steps, taking note of the slight blush on your cheeks. As you fished your keys out of your bag, you heard the soft click of the door opening behind you. Peering over your shoulder hesitantly, you found Worick leaning against the doorjamb. An easy smile spread across his face.

"Hey (Y/N), glad ya made it back okay. Didn't have anyone else raising hell after we left, did ya?" he inquired, taking a drag of the cigarette dangling between his lips. You shook your head, glancing past him to see Nic watching you from near the window. You turned your attention back to Worick as you said, "No, everything went fine. Hope I don't have to see that asshole anytime soon, though. I might break his face next time." This earned a loud laugh from the man, though the dark glint in his eye belied his light-hearted laugh. "Well if he gives you any trouble, you just let us know," the blonde said, grinning. "Thanks, but I think I can handle it. Besides, I don't know that I could afford what Benriya would charge," you laughed briefly, letting a ghost of a smile brush over your lips. Worick's eye narrowed for the shortest instance before he gave you a friendly, yet concerned expression.

"I mean it, if you need help, don't be afraid to ask. We wouldn't want our favorite neighbor getting into trouble," he said, slinging an arm over your shoulders. "I'm your only neighbor, dumbass," you chuckled. You felt a squeezing pressure on your breast and looked down to find Worick's hand groping you. You jammed an elbow, hard, into his ribs as punishment. He coughed and the cigarette fell from his lips as he held a hand to his bruised side. A pained, playful smirk crossed his face. You heard a creak and looked up to find Nicolas standing in the doorway watching the little scene unfold. His dark eyes were locked onto your face and you shifted awkwardly under his intense stare. Your chest tightened as a flush blossomed across your face.

He lifted his hands and signed to you. <Don't forget about the ice.> You nodded, signing easily back to him. <I won't. Thanks for reminding me, Nicolas.> A small smile touched his lips as he turned to go back to his resting place. Worick had recovered and was watching the two of you interact. "You're really something, (Y/N). Ya know that?" His statement surprised you and you asked him what he meant. "It's pretty rare for Nico to show concern for anyone. You're a lucky one." He grinned dangerously, "Better watch yourself, you might find him paying you more attention from now on." With that, he entered his apartment and shut the door, waving to you as he closed it.

You stood in the hallway for a few moments trying to process what had just happened. Shaking yourself out of your haze, you finally entered your home. Dropping your bag unceremoniously onto your table, you made a beeline for the kitchen. A distinct throbbing in your cheek pulled you toward the freezer as you rummaged around trying to find your homemade ice pack. Exclaiming softly in victory as your fingers brushed against the item, you closed the freezer and pulled the towel from the bar beside the sink. Reaching into the fridge, you grabbed a couple beers, the bottles clinking together softly.

Wrapping the ice pack as you walked, you plopped onto your couch. Resting your head against the back, you lifted the pack up to your face. Sighing in relief, you closed your eyes. Holding the frigid object up with your shoulder, you popped the top off one bottle and took a long drink. The cool liquid flowing down your throat soothed the rest of your worries away for the night. A familiar warmth settled in your stomach as the alcohol took effect. You relaxed on the couch for some time, until both bottles were drained, and your ice pack had grown warm.

Sighing tiredly, you lifted yourself from your comfortable position. You stretched your sore muscles as you padded over to the radio sitting on the windowsill. You took a moment to lift the pane open before flipping on the small machine. A soft bluesy tune floated out and into the night air. You smiled wistfully. The music wrapped around you as you moved around the apartment. The bottles clanked loudly as you threw them in to the garbage bin. Looping the towel over it's bar, you tossed the warm pack into the freezer again.

You spotted the clock on the wall, and realized it was a quarter after 2 in the morning. Yawning loudly, you strode over to your small desk in the corner, two more beers in hand. Pulling out a well worn notebook, you sunk into the chair. Closing your eyes briefly, you waited for the music to soak in. Finally, inspiration hit you, and you took your pen to paper. The room was filled with the sound of soft scratching on the page, intermingling with the soft tunes to create a lovely melody. You quickly lost yourself in your world of writing. Several hours later, after you had finished your drinks, you sat upright. A crick had formed in your neck, and your cheek had started to throb again.

Another yawn tore from your mouth as you cleaned up your tiny mess and headed for the bathroom. Sleep was beginning to take over as you lazily brushed your teeth and washed your face. You inspected yourself in the mirror. The redness had faded from your cheek and was being slowly replaced with a deep purple blotch. Cursing under your breath, you angrily flipped off the lights in the apartment. You ran your hands along the walls as you found your bedroom in the darkness. You slipped out of your work uniform and into an old baggy t-shirt that fell just above the knee. The aching in your bones started to dissipate as you flopped into bed. It didn't take long for you to slip into a deep sleep.

* * *

 

As you woke the next morning, you found that you could hardly move your jaw. Groaning, you sat upright in bed and stared out your window. _Gray skies. Again. This fuckin' place, I swear._ Stretching your arms, you yawned and slipped away from the warmth of your blankets. Padding quietly into the kitchen, you pulled the ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it once more in a towel. You realized you had left your window open all night and now the apartment was freezing cold. Sliding the pane down and locking it, you turned the radio on to drown out your thoughts. You slumped down onto the couch, clutching the cold pack to your face once more. 

Laying your head against one of the armrests, you unintentionally drifted into a distressed sleep. Flashes of past horrors flitted behind your eyes. You tossed in your sleep, dropping the pack onto the floor. A sweat broke out across your forehead. In your dreams you were screaming, and a strangled cry fell from your lips. You were jolted from your nightmares by a banging on your front door. Grumbling, you wiped the sweat from your brow. Crossing the room, you rubbed your temple as a migraine began to form. More banging on your door caused you to call out, annoyed, "Yeah, yeah I'm coming. Fuckin' Christ, keep it in your pan-" You stopped short when you ripped the door open and found the bastard with the broken wrist standing in your doorway.

A crazed grin split his mouth, and he stepped towards you, forcing you into your apartment. Two of his pals from the day before closed and locked the door behind them, equally insane expressions on their faces. The man in front of you leaned in close, his breath assaulting your nose. "I told you I wouldn't forget you, little wench." His hand grasped your throat suddenly, squeezing hard enough for you to see stars. "Now, we're not gonna let you off easy. My boys and I have been real bored lately. So we're gonna have some fun with you." A horrifying glint appeared in his eyes. "Before we kill you, that is."

Your heart was pounding in your throat as you struggled against his hand. You hadn't had much trouble breaking his wrist, but his rage fueled the vise-like grip. His buddies appeared behind you, each one grabbing an arm and keeping you trapped. The man holding your throat released it, allowing you to catch your breath for a moment. Until his fist came flying. He slammed a solid punch into your gut, making you cry out and cough hard. He grinned wildly at your reaction, and landed several more heavy hits. After one particularly savage blow, you tasted iron in your mouth. _This is bad, I need to get away somehow. Or get help..._ Your thoughts drifted briefly to the Benriya just across the hall. However, you were soon brought back to the present when you felt a hot slice of pain across your stomach.

The asshole standing in front of you was brandishing a large knife in his hand that was dripping red. Droplets of your own blood fell from the blade to the floor. You looked down to see a long, deep cut across your midsection. The pain didn't quite register until he started in on the second cut. A heart-stopping scream tore from your throat. He punched your face hard, causing your already bruised cheek to split open. More blood trickled down, spilling onto your shirt. You gritted your teeth as you prepared for another blow. Instead, he sliced another long swipe across your stomach.

You cried out again, the sharp pain bringing painful memories back to the surface. Threatening to be swallowed by dark thoughts, you started to lose your focus as the man continued his assault on you. You were vaguely aware when the men behind you moved you, seated on your couch between them. The leader of the group was standing above you, a sinister grin on his face that made your blood boil. He reached his blade towards your shirt, slowly slicing the front of the shirt open, exposing your barely covered breasts. Your eyes widened as you became suddenly aware of what he was planning. You struggled in vain against the men holding you, and called out for help as loudly as you could, hoping someone, anyone would hear you.

What followed in the next few moments happened so fast you had a hard time keeping up. The crazed fool moved to make another cut in your soft flesh, but as his blade touched your skin, the front door burst open. An angry Worick stood in the opening, breathing heavily. Nic loomed just behind him, his blade in hand. The pair took only a fraction of a second to assess the situation before moving to act. Nicolas shoved past Worick, unsheathing his katana as he lunged for the man holding the knife against your skin. The blonde man leapt after him, pulling his silenced pistol from its holster and firing two shots between the eyes of the men holding you down. They slumped into the couch and you ripped your arms from their slackened hold.

Worick gently helped you stand, while Nic beat the lunatic who had attacked you within an inch of death. "Stop," you croaked. More punches landed as the deaf man continued. Blood was flowing freely from his knuckles and the man's face. Worick slammed his foot against the floor to get Nic's attention. He turned his head sharply, looking like a man possessed. Worick motioned at you. He shifted his wild gaze to you. <You want me to stop?> An incredulous expression spread across his face as you nodded. <This bastard was going to kill you.> You winced as you raised your hands in reply. <He doesn't have a right to die yet. Let your police buddy take care of him.> A look of understanding cleared the murderous aura cast on his face.

He rose from his crouched position, positioning the tip of his blade against the throat of the man on the floor. "Stay," his gravelly voice full of menacing anger. The bloodied man whimpered pathetically, his hands raised in surrender. You let out a sigh of relief as your legs promptly gave out from under you. "Whoa there," Worick gasped as he caught your weight easily, "Let's get you somewhere less messy, huh?" You barely managed to nod in response. The blond man lifted you into his arms, exchanging a meaningful look with Nicolas. He carried you across the hall to their apartment, leaving the other man alone with your attacker.

Worick gently laid you in one of their over-sized chairs. He left the apartment for a moment, returning with a clean shirt and a pair of your loose sweatpants. Helping you into them gently, he discarded what was left of your bloody shirt. Crouching down in front of you, he smiled softly. "Hey, so think you can rest there a moment while I call Chad?" You hoped you managed enough of a nod as your eyes fell shut, the stress of what had happened finally wiping out the last of your will to stay awake. Before you completely passed out, you could barely hear Worick speaking.

* * *

 

When you came to, your eyes were met with stark white curtains surrounding you. The smell of disinfectant permeated the air, making you wrinkle your nose. Groaning, you tried to sit up, but a sharp flow of pain made you cry out and fall back against the bed. A flurry of motion behind the curtain drew your attention as a young girl pulled it aside. "Oh! You're awake!" The girl exclaimed softly. She looked no older than 13, and her soft innocent face was calming your anxiety in spades. "I'm Nina, Dr. Theo's assistant. He should be back shortly, in case you have any questions for him." She turned to close the curtain behind her. You made a small noise in protest, catching her attention. "Oh, did you want something to drink?" You nodded again, mentally praising the girl for being so astute. She beamed at you as she went to retrieve it, leaving a small gap in the curtain.

You managed to get yourself into a upright position by the time she had returned. She focused on something you couldn't see behind the curtain. Smiling, she handed the glass to someone and gave you a knowing look as she walked away. Curiosity was burning in your mind as you saw a bandaged hand pull the curtain back further. Nicolas appeared, water in his grasp. You jolted in surprise, wincing as another wave of pain shot across your stomach. He pulled a chair up to your bed, taking a seat as he watched you carefully. Your heart started pounding rapidly, blood rushing to your face. A dull pain throbbed in your cheek, but you ignored it as your eyes were locked with Nic's. He handed the glass to you, waiting as you took a long drink. Handing it back to him, your fingers brushed for a moment, sending a shock through your body.

He set the glass on the bedside table and turned his gaze back to you. You watched his hands gracefully float in the air as he gestured to you. <How are you feeling?> You made a face before you responded. <Like a million fuckin' bucks.> "Hn," Nicolas chuckled, his lopsided smirk flashing his teeth. <What happened after I passed out?> Nic glanced past you for a second, gathering his answer, before looking at you again. <Worick called Adkins. He came and picked up the bodies and the fucker that attacked you. I carried you here while Worick helped clean up your place.> Your skin flushed hot again, picturing his strong arms holding your fragile body as he brought you to the clinic.

Nic tapped your hand, shaking you from your thoughts. Glancing down at his bandaged hands, a pained expression crossed your face. You gently wrapped your fingers around his large hand, raising it to your face to press your lips lightly against the cloth. A sharp intake of breath drew your eyes back to meet his. The warmth in his surprised gaze was intoxicating, and it filled your chest with heat. He slipped his hand from your grasp, reaching to cup your uninjured cheek. Your body moved of its' own accord, leaning into his touch. Unable to reign in the sigh that escaped your lips, your eyes flashed to his in panic. Expecting to see annoyance, you were amazed when you found mild amusement glinting in his dark expression.

A dark smile spread across his mouth and you couldn't ignore the pang of...something...that punched you below the gut. <Is it okay that I'm touching you?> came Nic's sudden question. You felt taken aback at the inquiry, quickly nodding just a little too fervently. Another dark chuckle. You felt your hot embarrassment slide down your neck. He looked pointedly at your mouth, and you bit your lip as you shifted in your seat. He started to lean closer to you, but not before signing briefly. <Would you mind if I-> He paused, suddenly looking hesitant before continuing. <If I kissed you?> Stunned, you stared at him, (E/C) eyes wide.

Your surprise quickly dissipated. It finally dawned on you; the odd feeling in your chest and stomach made sense now. It was  _desire_ , and you wanted to kiss this man now with everything in your being. He'd saved your life, this was the least you could do to show your gratitude. Eyes softening, you nodded, leaning into his hand again. The smirk on his face made your stomach flip. He drew himself closer, slipping his hand behind your head. Nic made sure he kept his eyes locked on yours as he leaned towards you, searching your gaze for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, his lids fell shut as he lightly brushed his lips against yours.

The breath froze in your throat as your relished in the feel of his mouth. Your mind was quickly clouded with a thick haze as he moved his lips with yours gently. Sighing deeply, you raised your hands and slid them up his chest to lock together behind his neck. You tentatively swiped your tongue across his bottom lip. He met your tongue with his, enjoying the sweet taste that suddenly burst into his mouth. Nicolas let a low groan slip, the rumble sending a delicious shiver down your spine. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss. His other hand had found its way to the base of your spine, and he gently pulled you closer to him.

Humming in satisfaction, you felt your mind growing hazy. Lost in sensation, you ran one hand through his hair, lightly tugging on the dark, short strands. The soft growl that tumbled out of his mouth did not escape your attention as you smirked against his lips. He returned a smirk of his own. He lazily broke the kiss, pulling back just far enough to see the blissful expression on your face. You opened your eyes, blinking through the fog as you tried to focus on him. He waited patiently until the clarity returned to your gaze. The smile that spread across your features was infectious and he found himself grinning in return. You would've been content to look at this man's face all day if it weren't for the sudden ringing of the bell, signalling someone entering the clinic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! This story gives me life!
> 
>  
> 
> All characters related to Gangsta belong to Kohske.

  
"Helloooo! Anybody home?" Worick's voice drifted in from the entrance, startling you and sending a wave of panic down your spine. You had zero opportunity to remove your arms from Nic's neck before the curtain was flung open. "Ah-HA! I knew you'd still be here, part...ner..." He trailed off, seeing you and Nic wrapped up in such an intimate embrace. The biggest shit-eating grin you'd ever seen spread across the blond man's features. "Well look at you two little love-birds, gettin' busy before you're even healed!" He cackled, slapping a large hand on Nicolas' back, who whipped around, growling in defense. His eyes widened when he realized it was his contract holder.

Worick laughed even harder due to the deep blush creeping up your neck, mirroring the pink tinge dusting the tops of Nic's ears. An embarrassed grimace covered his face while he rubbed the back of his neck guiltily, but his other hand remained at the base of your spine. You reluctantly slid your arms from him, and let your hands fall into your lap. Worick moved to the foot of the bed, wrapping his fist around the foot rail. He pinned you with a more serious look, the grin sliding from his face. "So hey, (Y/N), how are ya? Feel like crap, right?" You nodded, subconsciously tracing your fingertips over your heavily bandaged stomach. <I think shit is a better word.> Worick gave you a small smile. "Well, take all the time you need to rest up, Doc Theo and Nina will take good care of ya. And when he gives you the all-clear, we'll help you move your stuff over to our place."

You froze as his words sunk in, shock halting all thought. You looked to Nicolas for affirmation. His dark eyes met yours, giving you a short nod. Worick continued, "As it turns out, the guys that broke into your apartment worked for some low-life pimp by the name of Barry Abbott. Guy's not really worth our time, but we were told to keep you under our protection. Chad says he wouldn't put it past the fucker to try and get revenge on you." He paused to brush a few stray locks out of his face, "So, as a safety precaution, you're gonna be staying with us for a while!" A softness returned to his face. "Hope that's okay with you." You had to be hearing things, because there was no way this was real.

Nic ran his fingers from your spine to the nape of your neck, grabbing your attention. <Are you okay with this?> He signed, anticipation and hesitation swirling in his eyes. The shock was finally wearing off, giving way to a new sensation you weren't sure how to process. You found your voice, hoarsely asking, "You're serious? You really want me to live with you?" A nod from Worick. "Is that something you're comfortable with?" Your last question was for Nicolas directly. He gave you a small smirk, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. <I think I can make an exception. For you.> He didn't miss the faint blush dusting your cheeks as you returned his smirk.

Worick cleared his throat forcefully, interrupting the meaningful look the two of you shared. Nic dropped his hand from your face when he saw your eyes flick back to the blond. "Soooo, how 'bout it? You cool bunking with us losers?" He grinned, slipping a cigarette between his lips. That strange sensation was bubbling up in your chest again, making your insides flutter uncontrollably. Positive you were about to explode, the smile spread wide across your mouth. "Nothing would make me happier," you beamed at both of them. Nic's self-satisfied grin sent warmth rushing through your body. "Well, now that that's settled, I better head out. Theo's not far behind me, so he'll be coming to talk to you about your injuries and whatnot," Worick yawned, "Nic, I need you to tag along. We've got business with Granny Raveau."

Grumbling softly, Nic reluctantly nodded. "We'll come check on ya' later, 'kay?" The blond stated, waving as he walked away. "Better not keep me waiting!" you called, voice a little stronger now. "Wouldn't dream of it, gorgeous! I'll be waiting outside, Nic." The man in front of you grunted in response. A frown tugged the corners of his mouth down as he gave you an apologetic look. <Sorry to just leave you here like this.> He pulled you towards him and pressed his lips to your forehead for a long moment. <It's okay. You've gotta do what you gotta do.>You signed to him after he pulled away. You smiled warmly, gently wrapping your fingers around his. <Better not make Worick stand out there too long. He'll think we're doing questionable things in this tiny bed.> Your smiled shifted into a large smirk, drawing a loud snort from the man.

He stood, giving your hand one last squeeze before his fingers slipped from yours. The curtain closed behind him and you heard the bell ring as he left. Sighing loudly, you closed your eyes. The suffocating bleached atmosphere was giving you a migraine. Plucking the water from the bedside table, you took another long drink. You were aching for a drop of something more potent. Having drained the glass, you placed it on the table. Settling back into bed, you decided to steal a short nap as you waited for Theo to return.

You weren't out for more then a few minutes when the bell sounded once more. "Welcome back, Theo!" came Nina's sweet voice from down the hall. Small footsteps tapped closer, halting just outside your curtain. "How's our patient looking?" The voice you assumed was Theo's asked in a low tone. "She's awake finally. Nico made her drink some water, and Worick stopped in to check on her as well." A short chuckle from the man. "Seems she's got them wrapped around her finger already," he mused. You snorted loudly, without meaning to. The soft clacking of the curtain drew your attention to the side.

A tall, slender man in a pressed white lab coat and glasses peered down at you. His stoic expression reminded you briefly of Nicolas, but this man's held a thinly veiled mirth. "So, Sleeping Beauty decided to join the waking world again," his tone was dry, as he held up your charts to look them over. He sat down in the chair Nic had left by your bed. "How long have I been out?" You asked, clasping your hands together just above your wounded stomach. His spectacled gaze fell on you for a moment before shifting back to the clipboard. "About 4 days. But that's to be expected from your condition when you came in." You balked, a strained noise escaping your throat. "Just how bad was it?" You croaked, trying to review your foggy memory of the attack in your mind. Theo looked at you pointedly, seemingly contemplating on how to tell you.

"Do you want me to sugar coat it, or tell you the truth?" he said finally. "Lay it on me," you stated. "Well, by the time Nicolas arrived, you had already lost a significant amount of blood. The lacerations to your abdominal region were quite deep, though not enough to puncture the abdominal cavity. However, they did require a good deal of stitching to close them. You were, at the very least, lucky in that you didn't sustain any broken bones. Though I'd hardly call you fortunate," he paused, glancing at you to gauge your reaction. "Then there was the injury to your cheek," he continued, gesturing to the corresponding area on his face with his pen, "Nicolas relayed to me that you had been in a previous altercation with the individual, and that was how you sustained the first level of bruising I observed." You nodded, "Yes, the asshole was threatening one of my Twilight customers. When I told him to leave, he slapped me."

A hint of appreciation passed across his face before it settled back to a neutral expression. "It seems this individual inflicted another impact on top of the first, so you should expect some deep tissue bruising. He did manage to break the skin, so I implemented an adhesive suture to minimize the size of the scar." The doctor set his clipboard in his lap, giving you a moment to process the information. "Thanks Doc. You didn't have to do all this," you said after a moment. "Of course, I'm accustomed to letting people just bleed out in my clinic," he responded, prompting a snort from you. You found his dry humor helping your stress level to drop significantly.

"How's your pain level, on a scale of 1-10, 10 being highest in pain." He glanced at you expectantly. "I'd say about...a 6? If I don't move too much," your response was short, but honest. He hummed, acknowledging your answer. "Any recurring headaches or unexplained pain prior to the attack?" You hesitated before answering. "Well, I do get these severe migraines from time to time," you said. "Hm. How often, and how long has this been going on?" his voice lifted in mild interest. "About ten or more times a month, for a few years," you sighed, deciding it was probably better to be open with the doctor. He pinned you with a curious look you couldn't quite decipher.

"Do you suffer from depression or anxiety?" His question stunned you for a moment. "Well....not currently." You paused, clenching your hands tightly, "I did in the past. But I've gotten a handle on most of it." "Which part are you still struggling with?" Empathy permeated his voice; he waited patiently for you to answer. You stared at the ceiling, heavy thoughts trying to sink their hooks into your sanity. "A small part of both, I suppose," you murmured, shifting your head minutely to clear them away. "I see. Well I can give you a low-dose prescription of anti-depressants. But I would caution you against using them too much, to prevent forming a dependency," he stated, scribbling something at the bottom of the page, "And if you decide you don't want medicine, I would recommend trying biofeedback therapy. I can administer it here, once a week. Majority of patients that chose it had positive results."

You mulled over the options he gave you. "Can I take some time to decide?" You asked after a few moments. "Of course. I'd prefer you make your mind up before I release you at the end of the week. That would give you...three days. Is that suitable?" "That'll be plenty of time," you responded eagerly. He nodded modestly, "Until then, you need rest. I'm not handing you over to those two idiots before I'm convinced you can handle it," he stood, pushing his glasses back up his nose, "I'll change your dressings after you eat." Before he closed the curtain, he added, "You've got quite the guardian angel watching over you, (Y/N). Consider yourself very lucky they got to you when they did." You inclined your head in somber agreement as he turned and left. Soon, Nina's soft voice floated through the air as she relayed her day to the doctor. Their hushed tones lulled you to sleep.

* * *

  
_The crack of bone echoed through the air. Your mother's screams tore from her throat, sending shudders of terror down your spine. You watched as your father repeatedly struck her trembling frame. Blood flew from his fists, rage fueling his assault. He continued to land blows on her fragile body long after she ceased to fight back, no longer moving at all. Her vacant stare pierced your heart, a sob wrenching its way free of your mouth. Your father's crazed eyes found you, hiding behind the sofa. A deranged expression spread across his features, as he picked up a large chunk of broken glass. He stalked towards you, extending a hand and beckoning you closer to him. Frozen in place, your heart raced as he loomed over you. You squeezed your eyes shut when he brought the shard flying down, stabbing into your shoulder. Your vision blurred with excruciating pain. The last thing you heard before you passed out was your father's maniacal laughter drowning out your screams._

You woke with a gasp, panic suffocating you. Your breathing was heavy, the fear of the nightmare seizing your muscles. A small hand wrapped around your fist, gently coaxing the fingers to relax. You numbly looked over to see Theo's young nurse, Nina, giving you a comforting smile. Her calm countenance was like a soothing balm, accompanied by the soft caress of her hands. Your panting slowly subsided as your heart-rate returned to normal. When she was convinced you had stabilized, she released your hand.

"Sorry, I couldn't help but notice you seemed distressed. Are you feeling better now?" You smiled weakly and gave a soft ,"Yeah." "Good. I made you soup for now. It's nothing special, just enough to give you some energy. And I brought you more water. Theo wants to make sure we push plenty of fluids through you," she gestured to the pristine silver tray sitting beside you. A small bowl with a pale brown broth sat next to another glass of water. Nina adjusted the bed so you were in an upright position before placing the tray delicately on your lap. "I'll let you eat in peace, but go ahead and call out when you're finished, 'kay?" Her sweet smile put you at ease.

Before she left, you had a burning question you needed answered ever since the Benriya duo left. "Nina," you started, unsure of how to ask, "Earlier...Worick said he knew Nicolas was still here..." You trailed off, brows furrowing in concentration. She watched you, waiting in earnest. "How....long..was he here?" You met the young girl's gaze. Her face grew tender, and she stood, placing a small hand on top of your leg. "(Y/N)....Nico...was at your side for 4 days," she said quietly, before leaving you to your supper.

You couldn't hide your astonishment as you processed her statement. Chuckling softly, you turned your focus to getting food in your system. Your hunger was evident; you all but inhaled the contents of the bowl. You set the tray carefully beside you, draining the water in three large gulps. _Alright, so maybe I'm a little dehydrated._ Wanting to get the dressing change over with, you called out to Nina that you were done. She retrieved the tray with an innocent smile, telling you to wait just a moment for the doctor. A while later, after Nina helped to carefully sponge bathe you, they fixed you up with fresh bandages. Clean and patched up, you were again allowed privacy to rest.

Unfortunately, the nightmare you'd woken from made you wary to sleep again. So you contented yourself with staring at the ceiling, letting your mind drift to a certain brown-eyed Twilight. Still amazed that he had remained near your side for so long, you resolved to ask him about it later. Your cheeks heated as you remembered the gentle way he had pressed his lips to yours. It was much too short of an embrace, in your opinion. _If only Worick wasn't such a damn pain in the ass._ However, you counted yourself lucky it hadn't been Theo to find the two of you. You doubted he would be as understanding, though you hadn't gotten a clear read of him yet.  
You tossed around the choices he had given you earlier. Your family history with drugs wasn't great. At a young age, you could remember your father frequently abusing his anti-psychotics. It would send him into a blinding rage that consumed anything and everything in his path. You'd inherited your mother's chronic migraines, and were terrified of becoming addicted in the way your father had. Then again, your curiosity and apprehension were evenly balanced when it came to the therapy Theo had suggested.

 _Speaking of the doctor, what the hell am I supposed to do about the cost of all this?_ You felt a familiar wave of dread wash over you. Your heart-rate began to elevate, your breaths became shallow. The thought of not being able to pay for the care you were receiving terrified you. _No, no. I've got enough to fall back on. Stop it. Stop doing this to yourself._ You squeezed your eyes shut, clenching the sheets between your hands as you forced yourself to breathe evenly. _That's right, I made sure I wouldn't have to stress about money anymore._ Your fists relaxed slowly while you continued sucking in deep gulps of air. After a short time, you wearily opened your eyes. _This shit has got to stop._ Your mind was made up.

* * *

 

The next three days flew by. Between dressing changes, meals, and extensive naps, Nico and Worick, true to their word, had come by every day to check on you. Before you knew it, you were sitting at the edge of the hospital bed that had been your home for a week. Worick and Theo were talking just outside the front door of the clinic, their voices too soft for you to hear. Not that you were paying attention. Nicolas had claimed the stool at your bedside as soon as he walked in, dragging your hand from your side and resting it on his knee. He was distractedly running his fingers along the inside of your wrist, watching as Nina finished checking your bandages. Satisfied, she wandered off to pack you some dressings for the week.

Nic closed your hand around his fingers, squeezing tightly. You rubbed your thumb across his knuckles in response, a small smile playing at the edges of your mouth. Feeling his stare, you lifted your eyes from where his hand wrapped around yours. You lingered on his lips for just a fraction too long. When you saw the lop-sided grin spreading across his mouth, your eyes shot up to his. A hunger had entered his dark gaze, sending shivers down your spine. "Hn," came his husky chuckle with the pink blossoming up your neck. <Quit looking at me like that, you're making me nervous.> You signed quickly at him, laughing shakily. His grin widened dangerously. <Like what, I'm just looking at you.>

<No, you're looking at me like I'm your favorite dessert, and it's the last one.> His short laugh trickled down your back. He leaned in close, his lips nearly brushing your ear as his gravelly voice mumbled, "You do taste pretty sweet." A squeak fell from your lips, and you slapped a hand over your mouth. You were sure your face was red as a tomato, if his killer grin was anything to go by. This guy's gonna give me a goddamn heart attack. You smacked the top of his hand playfully, trying to glare through your embarrassment. <You better watch it, mister. I might stop playing nice.> You narrowed your eyes at him, hoping you looked at least a little intimidating.

Your tough bubble was popped once you heard him snickering, his body shaking as he fought to keep from bursting out laughing. <I can't help but feel like I'm being threatened by a kitten.> You rolled your eyes, shoving him off his seat. He laid on the floor, still snickering like a lunatic. "Nico? How'd you get on the floor?" Nina appeared at the foot of your bed, looking between you and him with a confused expression. "Don't worry Nina, dear, I'm sure he deserved it," Worick leaned against the door-frame, regarding Nic with an amused smile, "Right, partner?" The shorter man chuckled again, picking himself up off the floor.

"If you're done playing around," Theo interjected, "I'd like to give my patient some instructions before I release her to you apes." Worick grinned, waltzing over to your bed and flopping down beside you. Nic lazily reclaimed his chair, positioning himself so he could watch Theo's lips. "Now, you're recovered enough that I can comfortably send you home. Your dressings will still need to be changed every day for at least another week. I'll leave it up to you to decide who you want to help with that, or if you think you can do it yourself, be my guest," he looked pointedly at you before he continued,"I would recommend you abstain from any...strenuous activity. No heavy lifting, no exercise. Use your common sense. And if you tear your stitches open, I won't be using anesthesia if I have to do them over again." You felt a cold chill down your neck. "Y-yes, sir," came your slightly fearful response. You had a feeling he wasn't kidding, either.

"Aw, come on Doc. You don't have to scare her," Worick laughed, grabbing your shoulder reassuringly. Theo ignored him and went on, "Since you'll be coming here once a week for the subject we spoke about earlier, I'll be able to monitor your healing process." You nodded. You could feel Nic and Worick's eyes on you, and you had no intention of drawing any further attention to the issue. "Right, now get the hell out of my clinic. I have other patients to attend to," he grumbled as he walked down the hall. "Don't let Theo get to you, (Y/N). He's that way with everyone. It's how we know he cares," Nina stood in front of you, extending the small box in her hands towards you. "Ah, makes sense," you said thoughtfully. Worick plucked the item from the girl, standing and ruffling her hair. She wailed softly, covering her head, though the smile on her face was genuine.

"I put enough bandages and gauze in there to last you a little more than a week. Just in case," the young nurse said cheerily. She then turned to Nicolas and Worick, pointing a finger at the both of them. "If anything goes wrong, I expect you to tell me right away. The same goes for you, (Y/N)," she shifted her stern, but kind gaze to you. A warmth settled in your chest as you stood, nodding. She suddenly threw her small arms around you, being careful to avoid your wounds. "See you soon," her words were slightly muffled by your shirt, but you understood. _'Come back safe', got it._ You patted the back of her head softly. She pulled away, giving you a warm smile. "We better get a move-on, gang. All ready, (Y/N)?" Worick's voice gently caught your attention. As did Nic's hand on the small of your back. "Yeah, I'm ready to go home," you said, looking up at Nicolas.

The walk back to Benriya was longer than you thought it would be, and you were exhausted by the time the three of you returned. Worick headed up ahead of you and Nic, as you had decided to plop down at the bottom of the staircase. "Nic, I'm telling ya, I can't take another step," you nearly whined, "Spending a week in bed is not awesome for the legs." He leaned against the wall, sporting an almost annoyed expression. "To be fair, (Y/N), we did take the long way back, just for you," Worick's voice called out from upstairs. You snorted, laying your chin in your hand as you rested. Nic nudged your leg with his foot. He was not a tall man, but still you craned your neck to look up at him. <Need a lift?> He gave you an expectant stare.

<Up to you, big guy,> you paused, <if you're comfortable with it.> A smirk flashed across his face. In the blink of an eye, you went from seated on the cool concrete, to being toted up the stairwell. It took you a moment to realize he actually was carrying you. The heat of his arms soaked through your clothes and provided a warm sense of security. You slid your arms around his neck, sighing happily. He paused before the top step, and you followed his gaze over your shoulder.

In the center of your door, there was a large footprint. You weren't sure whose it was, but it sent a chill down your spine regardless. Nic growled softly under his breath and whisked you into their apartment before you could respond. Gently setting you down, Nic stepped back outside, shutting the door behind him. Making your way to one of the over-sized chairs, you gingerly sat yourself down. "Still pretty sore, huh?" Worick asked, taking the other chair beside you. "That's putting it mildly," you said bitterly, closing your eyes.

"Worick?" You asked after a moment. "Hm?" "Be honest with me. How bad do I look?" You lifted your head to look at him expectantly. His pained expression startled you. "(Y/N)...you...should probably see for yourself," he said carefully, standing and extending a hand to you. As he led you to the bathroom, your heart began to race. Even after Theo discussed all your injuries with you, you'd never had the opportunity to take a look at yourself. He flipped on the light and motioned for you to slip past him. Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath before raising your head and taking a peek at the mirror. You let out a horrified breath as you stared at your reflection.

The first thing that caught your eye was the ugly, hand-shaped bruise on your neck. Your gaze drifted upward to your face, and you lifted a shaky hand to your mouth as you took in the sorry state of your cheek. While Theo had done an excellent job closing the cuts, there was nothing to be done about the black and purple blotch blooming underneath your swollen skin. Hot tears rolled down your face, sudden and unwanted. The severity of your situation came crashing down around you as you sank to your knees. Your thoughts swirled around you so thickly, you couldn't even feel the hands shaking you, trying to bring you back to the surface.

Someone had tracked you down, forced themselves into your home, and attempted to kill you. And nearly succeeded. _How? How did this happen? When did I become so weak that I'm unable to protect myself?_ You stared at your trembling hands, unable to still them. Instead, you gripped the hem of your shirt like a lifeline, squeezing your eyes shut. Heavy sobs crept up your throat, spilling out of your mouth uncontrollably. Your body shook with their weight, and you felt like you were drowning.

"(Y/N)?" A garbled voice called your name, piercing your tormented haze. You turned to the doorway, finding Nicolas standing there, distressed expression on his face. <What happened?> You shook your head, incapable of speaking or even attempting to sign an explanation. He approached you cautiously, kneeling down to your level. Delicately, he unfurled your fists and used them to pull you to him. Leaning his back against the wall, Nic laid your head against his chest. You clung to his shirt, sobs still wracking your battered body. He let you get it all out, keeping a tight hold of you and periodically pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

The two of you remained in that position for some time, until eventually your tears subsided and you could think clearly once more. Your hands released their hold of his shirt as you sat upright. Taking a shaky breath, you slowly raised your eyes to Nic's. His face was a perfect expression of patience, and he gave you a small smile of encouragement. <Want to tell me what's going on?> He carefully signed. You nodded, taking a deep breath before replying. <I wanted to know how bad it looked. When I finally saw myself, I...I just lost it.> You paused, trying to steady your hands again. He waited calmly for you to continue. <I almost died, Nic. I can't get his sick face out of my head. It just....hit me. All at once.> Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

Nic gently took your face in both his hands, forcing you to focus on him. He held fast until your eyes cleared and your features lost the panicked expression. He felt your body relax, dropping his hands to yours, squeezing them reassuringly. You smiled feebly. <Better?> Nic signed, fixing his gaze on your face, watching for any signs you were going to slip back under. Nodding, you yawned without warning, prompting Nic to heave himself off the ground. He slipped his hands under your arms, lifting you up with ease.

Finally stepping out of the bathroom, your gaze fell on the crumpled black object sitting in the chair you had left vacant. Your backpack was slumped on the seat, giving the impression the object was dropped there in a hurry. You turned to Nicolas, confusedly signing, <Did you bring my bag here?> He nodded. <I brought you a few changes of clothes. I assumed you weren't ready to go back into your apartment just yet.> Your heart swelled at his thoughtful gesture. <Thank you, Nic.> You signed, wrapping your arms around his waist briefly, squeezing tight. You missed the way his eyes softened at the motion; the way his hands twitched in their desire to keep you pressed against him.

<Where did Worick go?> You asked abruptly, just now realizing he was nowhere to be seen. <Went out for smokes. And food, I think.> He responded, moving through the apartment. <He came and got me when he couldn't break through to you.> "Oh," you said out loud, suddenly feeling just a little ashamed. You plucked your backpack from the seat and flopped down, hugging the item to your chest. Nic noted your demoralized posture from across the room and barely swallowed the urge to sweep you up in his arms and keep you there.

He pulled a couple bottles of his favorite mineral water from the fridge, silently approaching you from behind. When he touched the frosty bottle to the back of your neck, he swore he could almost hear your startled squeal. Throwing a hand to your nape, you pinned him with a shocked expression. His mischievous smirk heated your cheeks as you took the drink from him. He gently pulled the bag out of your hand and set it on the ground beside the couch. Sinking into the sofa with a satisfied grunt, he slipped his hand into one of the outside pouches. The object he drew out made your blood freeze in your veins.

Your pocket knife looked tiny in his large hand. Without warning, he tossed it at you, watching intently as you caught it with ease. You revealed the blade with a practiced flick of your wrist, staring at it for a moment before closing it bitterly. Looking up, you met Nic's serious gaze with an inquisitive one of your own. "You feel vulnerable, right?" he said firmly. You nodded, slightly bewildered. <I get it. If you start falling back under, let that help you ground yourself.> Your gaze fell to the slim object in your palm once more. Squeezing it firmly before slipping it into your pocket, you found yourself smiling softly.

Nicolas appeared in front of you suddenly, kneeling down so that he was at eye level. You locked gazes with him, unable to tear yourself away from the intense look he was regarding you with. He braced a hand on both arms of the chair, effectively trapping you. The heat that began swirling in his eyes set a flame alight deep inside you. His rough voice sent delightful chills across your skin, "(Y/N), I need you to let me help you." You felt your eyes widen, your heart beating in double time. You swallowed thickly, your tongue feeling heavy. "How could I say no to a face like that?" you responded, teasing him. A dark look flashed across his face, followed quickly by a dangerous smirk that made your stomach flip.

He pressed his mouth against yours swiftly, catching you off guard. You melted against his lips after a moment, fervently moving yours in time with his. Your hands moved of their own accord, bunching the front of his shirt in your palms. Nic slipped an arm around your back, pulling you closer. You let a contented sigh escape, leaning into his touch. He tangled his other hand loosely in your hair, gently securing you against him. Your mind was hazy, all thoughts focused on the feelings flowing through you in this moment. When Nic tilted his head, deepening the kiss, you moaned softly. He tightened his hold on you, nipping at your bottom lip.

You gasped lightly, the sound captured in his mouth. He took the opportunity to caress your tongue gently with his. A faint pulsing in your core sent molten heat flooding throughout you. Your grip on his shirt slackened as you slid both arms around his neck, threading one hand into his hair. Tugging firmly on the locks between your fingers, you won a deep rumble from Nic. He picked you up without warning, wrapping your legs around his waist. He slowly carried you through the apartment, his lips pressed against yours the whole while.

Eventually, he set you down on the counter. His fingers trailed along the outside of your legs, leaving electric heat in their wake. You sighed into his mouth as he gripped your thighs firmly. You twirled your tongues together, the both of you fighting for breath between kisses. He slid one hand up to your waist, brushing his fingertips underneath your shirt. Sparks danced across your skin when he latched on to your love-handle. He accidentally grasped your side just a little too hard, making you suck in a sharp hiss at the sudden sting.

He dropped his hand from your waist immediately, pulling his face away. Without thinking, you pulled your shirt up slightly, inspecting the bandages for any blood leaking through. When you were satisfied they were holding, you lifted your eyes to Nic's face. Your heart throbbed sharply as you noticed the flush on his cheeks. He stared at you, a hint of a smile on his lips. <Sorry,> he signed, somewhat guiltily, <Guess I got a little carried away.> You smirked, leaning up and pressing a brief kiss to his mouth. <Somehow I think I'll be able to forgive you.> He chuckled softly, grinning when he noticed how flushed you were.

"You're pretty red in the face, there. I think you might be running a fever," his voice held a touch of sarcasm that sent another wave of heat through you, deepening the flush painting your skin. "Oh, shut the hell up," you said, rolling your eyes. Nic laughed loudly, stepping back and helping you to your feet. His hands drifted along your arms before settling around your shoulders. He pulled you to him for a moment, breathing in your scent. You clutched to the front of his shirt, resting your good cheek against his shoulder.

Your stomach loudly growling interrupted the peaceful moment as you flinched slightly. <I felt that,> Nic signed, barely containing the mirthful grin threatening to spread across his features. A sheepish smile touched your lips as you responded. <I sure hope Worick grabs something to eat while he's out.> Nic yawned, nodding his head in agreement. <You and me both.> You moved back to your chair, plucking your abandoned drink off the table and taking a long drink.

Nicolas watched you with interest, an annoying throb in his groin as he focused on your full lips pressed against the mouth of the bottle. _Fuck me_ , he thought, _I'm so screwed_. Luckily he was distracted from blatantly staring at your mouth by the front door being thrown open suddenly. Worick strolled in, take-out containers in one hand, and a carton of smokes in the other. "Hello, all! Your prince has returned!" he declared loudly, prompting Nic to roll his eyes. You scoffed noisily, closing the door behind the blond. "If you're a prince, I'm the goddamn queen," you retorted. Nic's soft snort didn't escape your attention. Worick placed a hand on his chest in mock distress. "You wound me, (Y/N)," he said, feigning the heartbroken look on his face. You would have almost believed it, if not for the sly glint in his eye.

"Yeah, yeah," you mumbled, making your way back to your seat. As the blonde divvied out the containers, Nic retrieved more bottles from the fridge. Worick was internally relieved that you seemed to be back to normal. The room settled into a comfortable silence as you all enjoyed your meals in peace. Nic kept stealing glances at you, and you at him. Which didn't fail to draw Worick's attention. He looked between the two of you, intrigued. "Sooooo," he drawled, "What did YOU kids get up to while I was gone? Nothing too dirty, I hope..." You choked on your drink, coughing harshly. Nic flipped a rude gesture at him before signing, <Like I'd fucking tell you.> Worick chortled uncontrollably, wiping a tear from his eye. "I think that's all the answer I need." You shot him a glare, stuffing another forkful of food into your mouth angrily to avoid gracing him with a response. The blond chuckled softly at your antics, firing a killer smile at you.

After you'd all finished your food and the containers had been cleared away, Worick excused himself, heading for bed. You yawned widely, stretching your arms above towards the ceiling. "I think it's time for me to pass out, too," you mumbled, laying down on the couch. Clutching one of the pillows, you tried to get comfortable. Which, thanks to your wounds, was proving to be harder than you thought. A tap on your forehead caused your eyes to fly open. Nic was leaning over you, his eyebrow raised in mild confusion. <What do you think you're doing?> he signed deliberately. "Um," you started, signing your explanation, <Trying to sleep?> Nic rolled his eyes, sliding his arms underneath you.

As he headed down to his half of the apartment, you squirmed awkwardly in his arms. "Nic? What are you...Where are you going?" He shifted his gaze to you, before focusing on his steps again. You huffed, thinking he was ignoring you. "You're not sleeping on the couch in your condition," his rough voice startled you. "Oh," you breathed. He gently placed you on his bed and made sure you were comfortable before twisting around and heading upstairs. He turned back to you for a moment, pinning you with a heat glance. You signed quickly, <Thank you, Nic.> He smiled briefly, tearing his eyes from you tucked into his bed and climbed the steps. You sat upright for a few moments, taking in your surroundings prior to settling underneath the covers, allowing a deep and dreamless sleep to whisk you away.

* * *

 

You woke slowly to the sound of muffled shouting from the floor above. Worick's muffled shouting. Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you carefully extricated yourself from the blankets and ascended the staircase. As you mounted the top step, you heard Worick bark, "I don't give a damn! I want to know who the fuck left it!" Blearily entering the room, you shielded your eyes from the bright light. "Hey guys, what's going on?" Worick spun around when he heard you, and you noticed the crumpled paper in his hand. Nic was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and a furious expression on his face.

You looked back to the blond for an explanation. "Ah, good morning, doll. Did I wake you?" He tried to hide the stressed tone of his voice. You had crossed the room by this point, and he couldn't fool you. "Worick? What's the matter?" You reached for his hand, prying the slip from his grasp. "Wait, (Y/N), don't read that-" He tried to steal it away from you, but it was too late. Your eyes fell on red print hastily scrawled on the center of the page. The eerily familiar handwriting made your hands tremble heavily. The sheet dropped to the floor, face-up, displaying two thick words.

**"FOUND YOU."**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if it seems like we're taking forever to get to the ass-kicking, I didn't put slow build in the tags for nothing.  
> Fair warning, this chapter gets relatively dark.
> 
>  
> 
> All characters related to Gangsta belong to Kohske.

When Worick had woken up that morning, something felt off. He probably wouldn't have been to able to say what it was precisely, it was more of a gut feeling. His routine was about the same as it always was. Wake up. Try to find pants. Maybe a shirt. Stumble into the living room and clear any trash from the table. Scrounge up some breakfast. It was so routine, he could, and often did, do it half-awake. But this morning was different. He rolled out of bed without the usual sludge dragging his body down. Noting to himself that it was nice to feel awake for a change, he strolled into the living room.

That was when he noticed it. One lone sheet of paper laying just in front of the main door. Neatly folded in half, and still partially tucked underneath. Confusion and a small rush of panic wafted through his mind as he stooped to pick up the unassuming object. Carefully flipping it open, a furious expression crossed his face. He read it several more times, mind racing as he tried to work through the implications of this single page. Hearing some shuffling behind him, he turned to see Nicolas sluggishly raising himself into an upright position on the couch. 

The shorter man slowly focused his eyes on Worick's livid expression. <Why do you look so pissed off already?> Nic languidly signed to the blond. <Because of this.> Worick responded sharply. A hint of concern flit through his dark eyes as he grabbed the paper out of his friend's hand. He glanced down at the page, noticing the hurried nature of the text. He scowled menacingly as the message finally clicked, the word falling out of his mouth, "Shit." He shifted his eyes to Worick, who seemed to know what the other man was thinking. "Yeah, I don't think it was meant for either of us, pal." <That means they know she's staying with us. Otherwise they would have slipped it under _her_ door.>

Worick nodded grimly, taking the paper from Nic. The man slid off the couch with a furious huff and moved to his favored spot by the window, automatically scanning the street. <So do we have any idea who sent it?> He signed, glancing at Worick, who had taken to pacing back and forth in front of the sofa. "No. It was just those two words. Nothing else. Fuck!" He was becoming more agitated as the minutes passed by. "We don't know hardly anything about her life prior to coming here, so there's no way we'd know if she's ticked off one of the Four Fathers in the past." The blond ripped a cigarette out of the pack, lighting it hastily as he flopped onto the sofa. He held his forehead between his fingertips, roughly rubbing at his skin to massage any ideas or clues to the surface.

"And if it isn't one of the families, then she's got trouble from another city following her here. So what the _hell are we supposed to do?_ " Worick halfway shouted. Nic pinned him with a serious stare. <Protect her, idiot. Find out who's after her and take care of it.> "Well no fucking shit, Sherlock," he paused, reaching for his smokes again as he ignored a sharp look from Nicolas, "We need to find a better place for her to stay. There's no way I'm going to keep her here if they _know_ she's here. I bet Danny would look after her. Or hell, even Marco." <Do you really think she's going to want to stay with people she doesn't know? Especially once she reads that thing?> He mused, trying to picture how you would react. Worick ripped himself off the couch, facing Nic directly, crushing the letter in his hand. "I don't give a damn! I want to know who the _fuck_ left it!"

Nic's eyes shot over Worick's shoulder just as the sound of shuffling feet touched his ears. "Hey guys, what's going on?" Your voice was thick with sleep, and Worick turned to see you shielding your eyes from the morning sunlight. He watched your drowsy gaze flit from the sheet in his hand, to Nic's tense posture, and then questioningly back to him. He tried to play it off, not wanting to trouble you so early in the day. "Ah, good morning, doll. Did I wake you?" His practiced tone rolled off his tongue, but he knew you saw right through him. "Worick? What's the matter?" Your hand managed to get a hold of the paper before he realized it was slipping from his grasp. He suddenly scrambled to retrieve it from you. "Wait, (Y/N), don't read that-" He tried to stop you, but he wasn't fast enough as you turned swiftly, smoothing out the page. 

They both watched you closely as you froze in your tracks. A pang of guilt slammed into Nic's gut when your hands trembled so hard the paper fell to the floor. You turned slowly to face them, terror draining all color from your features. Nic growled softly, crossing the room before gently taking your quivering hands in his. He carefully led you to the nearest chair, and guided you to sit down as he crouched down in front of you. <Talk to me, (Y/N).> He signed deliberately, making sure you focused on him. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, glazed eyes staring through him. He swore under his breath, looking to Worick for help. The blond appeared just as distressed, running a hand through his hair, irritated with himself. 

"Fuck. _Fuck_. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid," Worick groaned, moving to the phone across the room and frantically dialing the clinic. Nic watched the blond speaking rapidly, but couldn't follow his words. So he turned his attention back to you. He noted with some alarm that your lip had started bleeding, and he cautiously touched his thumb to your mouth. You started suddenly, clarity returning to your gaze. You finally saw him, and instantly tears welled up at the corners of your eyes. "Nic," your shoulders heaved as you breathed his name. "There she is," he mumbled under his breath, a tiny smirk lifting the edge of his mouth. 

<Can you focus now? Try to use the signs. I won't be able to read your lips if you stutter.> He held his breath as he waited for your slow reply. Finally you nodded, gathering yourself for a few moments before you stilled your shaking hands. <I know who sent it.> Your response shocked him, but he let you finish. <I'd know that handwriting anywhere.> Your gaze shifted to your feet for a moment, a bitter look drifting across your face. You closed your eyes, trying to block out the sudden influx of memories assaulting your mind. <My father sent it.> You signed sharply, meeting Nic's eyes again.

He pushed past his shock, instead focusing on getting more details out of you. <I'm assuming he's not someone you want to see....will he try to come after you?> You nodded somberly, <He will. But he won't do it right away. He'll wait until I think I'm safe again. And he'll come alone.> You took a shuddering breath, steadying your nerves. <Nic, if he finds me, he _will_ kill me.> Nic's eyes narrowed in anger, and you could see his jaw clenching. Worick, who had been watching you both out of the corner of his eye, butted in before Nicolas could say anything, "Why does he want to kill you, (Y/N)?"

You glanced over at him, hesitation plainly displayed on your face. _Is it safe to tell them? What are they going to say? I don't know what to do._ Your heart was racing as you tried to figure out what to say. "I....I don't know if I should tell you. It's not...a _pretty_ story," you started, testing the waters. Both men regarded you with patient expressions. "Don't know if you figured it out or not, but we have pretty ugly pasts ourselves, beautiful. Nothing you could say would make us care about you less," Worick said softly, pulling up a chair next to yours. Your stomach dropped as you braced yourself for the information you were about to lay on the Benriya. Taking a deep breath, you began.

"My father was part of the organization that sought out and eliminated Twilights. He was very good at his job, and _hated_ Tags, so he never had any complaints about completing his missions. When I was born, he took less work so that he could help raise me. But after my 8th birthday, he had to go back to working full-time. The bills were getting to be too much to handle. After a while, Mom started to have doubts about where the money was going. She could never figure it out though, and kept quiet about it." You paused, pinching the bridge of your nose and rubbing away the migraine that had suddenly flared up. Nic's large hand engulfed yours, squeezing it reassuringly. Dreading what came next, you smiled weakly.

"My father began bringing me along to work with him, and taught me everything he did on his missions. Even at 8, I knew it was wrong what he did to those people. He took pride in prolonging their suffering. But I was too scared of him to say no. The worst part, was that I inherited Father's abilities. I was stronger, and faster, than most children my age, and hell, even most adults. Once he found out, he started training me. To do what he did; to be what you know as....a Hunter. I tried to tell him that I didn't want to do it, but he threatened to hurt my mother if I ever disobeyed him."

"So I killed...and killed...and killed. For 6 agonizing years. Men...women...children, didn't matter. There were _hundreds_ of them," your voice shook slightly, and you gave yourself a moment to regain your composure. "He wouldn't allow them quick deaths, no. Never. 'They feign humanity and have the audacity to think they deserve to be equal to us. Death is much too kind for such filth,' he would often say. I've killed people in ways you couldn't even imagine. Each, and every, time I tried to show mercy, Father would punish my mother for my mistakes. After a while, I started to block everything out."

"No matter how many Twilights we killed, it was never enough for him. His hostility and cruelty got worse with each passing year. One night, he went too far," you let your gaze fall to the floor. "Mom had finally called him out on all his bullshit. She told him that if he didn't stop, she was going to leave and take me with her. He was shot up higher than I'd ever seen him; my poor mother didn't stand a chance. As she laid there, bleeding out, he noticed me hiding behind the couch, watching. He attacked me with some broken glass. Slicing, and stabbing, and punching me until I blacked out." Tears flowed freely down your face as you recounted events you had suppressed for so long. You missed the troubled look the boys shared, quickly returning their focus to you as you continued.

"When I came to, my father was passed out on the floor. So I grabbed what I could, and... I ran. For years, constantly terrified he would find me. In every town, I'd hear about more and more Twilight massacres. It made me sick. Just _knowing_ my father was continuing his work as a big 'fuck you' to me, for abandoning him," you spat the last words out, filling them with your contempt. 

"But several years went by, and things quieted down. The killings stopped once the Three Laws were passed. So I picked a place and stayed there. For the last 15 years, I tried to find as many Twilights as I could and send them here, where they would be protected." Nic's eyes went wide as he watched your lips form the last phrase. "After that, enough time had gone by I felt comfortable coming back to Ergastulum. And you know the rest," you let out a long sigh, gently rubbing your sleeve against your tear-stained cheeks. Far too ashamed to meet their eyes and see the inevitable disgust on their faces, you kept yours squeezed shut.

Before you could slip into your pit of self-loathing, you were pulled to your feet. Your face was buried in someone's chest, and you could feel another body firmly resting against your back. Two pairs of solid arms wrapped around you protectively. Alarmed, your eyes snapped open. Nico had you pressed to him, and Worick was behind you. You peered up at Nicolas, meeting his warm gaze. "G-Guys? Aren't you...I don't know...angry?" You couldn't hide the confusion in your voice, trying to push away from them. To keep them from comforting a monster like you. They tightened their hold just enough to stop your struggling. "You must not have heard me the first time," Worick said, leaning his chin on your shoulder, "Nothing you say can make us care less. So give yourself a little more credit for making it this far."  
Just like that, the dam you had built so long ago shattered, and your knees gave out from under you. Nic and Worick helped you slide to the floor as you sobbed uncontrollably. You clung to the men as you cried out two and a half decades of grief and guilt. They kept their grip on you, letting you get it all out. When your tears had abated and the sobs quieted, your body relaxed. Looking up at Nic, you found his gaze filled with compassion. Not a trace of the hatred you had expected to see. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," you said when you met his eyes again.

Worick interrupted the tender moment by groping your breast casually, laughing loudly as you smacked him. Nic growled softly, glaring daggers at the man. Still chuckling, he extricated himself from the tangled embrace. Straightening his clothes out, he brushed his hair out of his face, "Well now that we know what's going on, we can figure out what to do next." He smiled warmly, heading once more towards the phone. "I've gotta make some calls. Nic, why don't you and (Y/N) go get some breakfast for us," he directed his gaze to the man still holding you. <Yeah, yeah. Fine. She needs to get cleaned up first.> He signed lazily, picking you up in his arms as he stood. 

You squealed in surprise, clutching his neck. Chuckling, he scooped your backpack off the floor and carried you into the bathroom. He kicked the door closed behind him. Setting the bag on the toilet, he let you slip gently to your feet. Wordlessly, he stepped into the shower, twisting the knobs to a specific position before closing the door and facing you once more. <Lift your shirt up, I'll help you take off the bandages.> He gave you a stern look that said he meant business. Too intimidated to care that only your bra would be covering your chest, you stripped your shirt off, tossing it in the general direction of your bag. Nic made a soft, strained noise that you nearly missed, but chose to ignore it for the time being. 

His fingers worked deftly at the fabric around your midsection, and after just a few minutes, he dropped the last of your bandages in the garbage. His gaze fell on the fresh scars littering your stomach, and his eyes narrowed. You noticed his hands curl into fists at his sides; his jaw clenching furiously. Raising a hand to his cheek, you garnered his attention. A pained expression crossed his face as he stared at you. "Hey, I'll live. Take it easy, Nic," you mumbled, smiling as he leaned into your touch. 

Sighing heavily, he pulled you to his chest without warning. He rested his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your back. "I can't stand those fucking scars. Reminds me I wasn't able to get to you quick enough," he grumbled into your ear, "I should've killed the bastard when I had the chance." You smiled to yourself, squeezing Nic tightly in response. _But I'm alive, thanks to you._ He pulled back, pinning you with an expression you couldn't quite read, before releasing you and heading towards the door. Before he closed it behind him, he signed to you, <Hurry up, before the hot water runs out.> And then, <Let me know when you're done.> You nodded eagerly, and he shut the door.

Groaning in exhaustion, you stripped off the rest of your clothing. You stepped into the shower, softly crying out at the sharp sting of the stream against your skin. _How many fucking days has it been since I took a real shower?_ The warmth soon soothed away the tightness that seemed to be imprinted in your muscles. As you scrubbed away at your body, you let your mind fall blank, giving yourself a momentary reprieve from the constant flow of memories and pain. Before you knew it, the water temperature plummeted, and you realized you'd been in the shower for quite some time. The knobs squeaked as you shut them off. Stepping out, you shivered briefly, grabbing a towel off the shelf and quickly dried yourself. 

Digging into your bag, you pulled out a fresh set of undergarments and slipped them on. Ignoring the sharp flick of pain in your abdomen, you fastened the bra and rifled through the pack for clothes. You selected a plain pair of shorts and your favorite long-sleeved turtleneck, hoping to avoid drawing attention to your bruised neck. Inspecting yourself in the mirror, you wished you had makeup to cover the splotch on your cheek. You sighed and turned towards the door. Just as you pulled it open, you found Nicolas standing in front of it, hand raised to knock. He was momentarily shocked, quickly recovering as he signed, <Ready for the new dressings?> You nodded, stepping into the main room.

Worick, deeply engrossed in his telephone conversation, didn't notice you enter the room. Nic directed you to sit on the edge of the chair, and knelt down before you. You pulled your shirt up, unwittingly sucking in a breath as Nic's fingers brushed against your skin. His eyes flicked up to yours briefly before he continued wrapping your wounds. You tried to refrain from gasping every time his skin touched yours, but a small one would spill out every so often. A mischievous smirk slowly spread across his face, and your heart thumped soundly in your chest. Finally, he fastened the last bit of fabric in place, hovering his hands above your skin as he visually inspected his handiwork. Satisfied, he stood, carrying the box of bandages over the table where Worick was seated. He signed to the blond that he'd be back; the man responded with a wave. Nic looked at you pointedly, and the pair of you headed out.

* * *

 

The trip to get breakfast was fairly uneventful, and you only had to deal with a handful of people staring at you. Most of the sharp glances were directed at Nicolas, who seemed unfazed. Winding through the back streets, you approached a small smoke shop. An older woman stood behind the counter, regarding the two of you with an aloof expression. "Afternoon, Handyman. Here to pick up smokes for our one-eyed prince?" She peered at him, hand reaching behind her to pull a carton off the shelf. Nic nodded, pulled a few bills out of his pocket and handed them to the woman. She turned her gaze to you, pausing at the mark on your face. You squirmed uncomfortably as you waited for her to say something. 

"You must be the poor soul that moved in across from these knuckleheads. Heard a lot about you, girlie," she remarked suddenly. "Uh, yeah. I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you," you mumbled, shifting the bags in your arms to extend a hand to her. She shook it briefly before continuing, "Keep hearing talk about some sweet little thing that broke a man's wrist for hassling a couple Tags in her workplace. Wouldn't happen to be you, now would it?" You flinched, glancing at Nic, who seemed highly disinterested in the conversation. He leaned against the wall, yawning tiredly. "Gee, I wonder where you heard that," you said, rolling your eyes. You turned your attention back to the woman, missing the lopsided smirk Nic shot you. 

"Yes, that would be me. I also got my ass kicked by the same cocksucker, and if those two hadn't come to my rescue, I'd probably be dead," you grumbled, feeling frustrated. "Well you've got quite the pair, little missy. To break a man's hand in defense of a Tag. No wonder these Benriya boys speak so highly of you," she stated, making you bark out a short laugh. Nicolas chuckled softly beside you. "Name's Joel Raveau, but you can call me Granny. Everyone else does. You make sure you watch your ass on these streets. Girl like you can get into a lot of trouble," she shook her finger at you, waiting til you nodded to wave her hand dismissively, "Good, now take the Handyman and scamper on home. I'm a busy woman." She turned and disappeared into the back of her shop. 

You shook your head slightly, smiling to yourself at the exchange. _I forgot how nosy everyone was in this city._ Nicolas pushed himself away from the wall and started down the street. You paused for a moment before you trailed after him, watching his broad shoulders shift as he moved the package from one hand to another. Your gaze glided down his spine to the swaying sword at his hip. Noting to yourself that his pants accentuated his backside nicely, your cheeks warmed. 

Nic stopped in the middle of the street, glancing curiously at you over his shoulder. You stiffened, realizing you'd been caught. He smirked darkly, entertained by the deep flush that crept up your neck. <Enjoying the view?> He signed teasingly. Your face was so hot, you thought you might burst. Trying to fumble over a response in your mind, you blurted out, "I'm not sorry that you have a nice ass." His stunned expression made you comprehend what you had just said. Before you could retract your statement, he started laughing. Full-on, doubled over, clutching his gut as he cracked up. Rolling your eyes, you tried to shove down the thumping inside your chest as you stomped past him. 

You could hear him occasionally chuckle or snort behind you the whole way back. Trying your best to ignore him, you were mortified you'd let that just fall out of your mouth. _God, I sounded like Worick. These two are rubbing off on me._ Finally, you reached the familiar staircase, praying Nicolas would keep quiet about your little outburst as you climbed to the top. What you didn't see was how Nic's hands twitched as he watched you ascend the stairs, fixating on your own tempting behind. And you didn't hear the low groan he couldn't choke down. You waited at the top of the steps for him to open the door. He glanced at you, and you gave him your best attempt at an annoyed expression. He grinned widely, leaving the door open as he walked to where Worick was still seated.

Dropping the carton of cigarettes in front of the blond, he turned and removed his jacket, hanging it on a wall hook. The taller man looked up from the phone and noticed the rather mischievous smile his partner was sporting. Raising an eyebrow, he signed questioningly at him, <I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that, unless you're having waaaay too much fun completing a job...what happened?> "Hn," the dark haired man chuckled, glancing at you as you approached the table to set the bags of food down. "Ask her," he said gruffly, fishing a sandwich out of the sack closest to him. Worick finished his phone call quickly, turning his attention to you.  
He perked up, cheekily grinning when he noticed how flustered you were. "My, my. What delightfully rosy cheeks you have there, dear (Y/N). Care to fill me in?" He leered at you, waggling his eyebrows. You unwrapped your own sandwich, glaring at Nicolas. "Over my dead damn body," you grumbled, flipping Nic off when he started snickering again. Taking a large bite out of your sub, you purposely ignored the both of them. However, you soon registered movement in your peripheral. You watched in horror as Nicolas filled Worick in on your perplexed state. <\--caught (Y/N) staring at my rear. When I asked if she was enjoying the view, she blurted out that I have a nice ass.> He smirked at you as he relayed the interaction to the blond. 

You flinched at the outburst of cackling from Worick. He laughed so damn hard, he fell straight out of his chair. "You're a fuckin' asshole," you glowered at Nicolas, tearing off another piece of your sandwich. He chuckled around a mouthful of food, playfully nudging your foot under the table. Worick finally contained his laughter and climbed back into his seat. Wiping a tear from his eye, he took a large breath, "Oh, that was the funniest shit I've heard in a long time. Thanks for that." You rolled your eyes, refusing to say anything else about the incident. Mercifully, they didn't continue to tease you further, but the shit-eating grins plastered on their faces certainly didn't go away either.

* * *

 

After you'd all gotten breakfast in your bellies, Worick moved to one of the seats in the main area, and motioned for the two of you to follow. You plopped down on the sofa, Nic sinking down on the other side of you. He took your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. Worick noticed the motion, but chose not to comment. Instead, he leaned forward in his seat, a more serious expression crossing his face, "So here's the deal, (Y/N). Your father knows you're staying with us. That's...a problem, because that makes it way too easy for him to find an opportunity to target you." He paused, making sure you were following him so far. You nodded, and he continued, "I called our trusted contacts around town, and managed to find a safer place for you. It's not a permanent set-up. But until we locate your father...it'll have to do." You stared at him, starting to protest, "Worick...." 

He held up a hand to let you know he wasn't finished, "I know, I know. But just...let me explain. The best option I could come up with is for you to stay at Bastard. You'll be under the protection of both the Cristiano and Monroe Families. Plus, it's close enough that if anything happens, we can rush over there." He sat back in his seat, allowing you to process the situation. Your eyes searched the floor around your feet, and to your surprise, you found yourself nodding. _It makes sense. I'd be stupid to say no to that much protection. But...isn't Bastard a...brothel?_

You raised your eyes to Worick, narrowing them in confusion. "Why Bastard? What do you expect me to do while I'm there? Because if you think I'm going into the sex trade, you're sadly mistaken," you glared at him suspiciously. "Aw, that's too bad. You've got such a great bod....it'd be such a shame to let it go to waste," he guffawed when you threw a pillow at his face and flipped him off, "I'm kidding! You won't be a call girl. The guy that manages the place could actually use another bartender. And you seem like you'd be able to handle the kind of clientele they get in there." You were dumbfounded, "You're...serious?" The blond nodded, setting the pillow you'd thrown in his lap, "So whaddya say, (Y/N)? You game?"

Nicolas slid closer to you and slung his arm over the back of the couch, drawing your attention as he signed to his partner, <What about her other job? Did you sort things out there, too?> It suddenly dawned on you that you'd forgotten all about your waitress position at Blue King. _Shit. Tony's gotta be fuckin' pissed. I bet he's driving Aron insane._  You focused on Worick intently, as he laid it out for you. "Ah, yeah. I loosely explained things to him, leaving out certain details about your past, of course. And he said that when things settle down, if you want, you're welcome to your old job. Something about 'the best damn waitress I've ever had and I'll be damned if I'm gonna be the one to tell her she can't come back.' " Your mouth fell open, hardly believing what he was saying.

All that had happened in just the past week alone was more excitement than you'd had in ages. It made your head throb, just trying to make sense of it all. You found your head in your hands for what seemed like the thousandth time. "Ooookay, so. I'm going to Bastard. And when am I leaving?" You inquired, rubbing your temples gently. "They're not expecting you til tomorrow morning, so you have time to get your things in order," Worick responded. Lifting your head, you wearily stared at the door, somewhat dreading entering your unit across the hall. _Never been so glad to not have a lot of shit to move around._

Nic drifted his fingers across the back of your neck, prompting you to shift your gaze towards him. <I can help, you don't have to be in there alone.> He peered at you, a considerate expression painted on his features. You felt a small weight lift off your shoulders, and gave him a ghost of a smile. <That...would be great, actually,> you signed fluidly, breathing just slightly easier. "Well it sounds like you two have that sorted out," Worick crooned, standing up suddenly, "I've got some errands to run, so I'll be gone most the afternoon. Think you can watch after her, Nico?" The man beside you scoffed, raising an eyebrow at his partner. <Yeah, it's a fate worse than death, but I'll manage somehow.> You rolled your eyes, jabbing him in the side with an elbow.

"Alright, kids. Get a room already, would ya?" Worick joked, cackling at the pink that tinged your cheeks. "You're on your own for supper. So don't get too...busy...that you forget to eat, kay?" He slid to the door, blowing you both a kiss before he closed it behind him. "Prick," Nicolas and you said in unison. You looked at each other and started laughing. Calming down a moment later, you wiped a few tears from your eye. Nic was still grinning as he stood. He extended a hand to you, which you happily accepted. He gently pulled you up and you both made your way towards your old apartment.

Standing in front of your door for the first time since the attack, you felt a shiver run down your spine. Taking a deep breath, you unlocked it and pushed the door open tentatively. You took special care to ignore the area of your attack. You surveyed the rest of the room, seeming like a stranger in your own home. Everything was exactly as you left it, which somehow made you feel even worse. Nicolas lingered patiently behind you, allowing you to move at your own pace. You sighed, striding slowly towards your bedroom, flipping the light on as you ducked underneath the bed. Pulling a large satchel out from underneath, you set it in the middle of your bed, opening and preparing it for packing.

You pulled the drawers out on your dresser, tightly rolling your clothes and lining them up inside the main compartment of the case. Thankfully, you didn't have much, so it didn't take more than an hour. And there was still plenty of room. Turning sharply, you started when you realized Nicolas had been leaning against the door-frame. _Shit, I forgot he was there. Guy's too damn quiet_. He raised his eyebrow in a question and you brushed off your momentary surprise. <Could you grab whatever is in my desk and bring it in here?> You signed briefly, waiting for his nod before you slipped into the bathroom to grab your toiletries. You carried as much as you could in your arms, reminding yourself to go back for the rest.

Returning to your bedroom, you found Nic had beat you back. He was sitting on your bed next to your bag, scanning through your writing journal. You threw your armful of supplies down on the other side of the bed, quickly plucking the book from his hand. He gave you a slightly annoyed glare, before shifting his expression to something that _almost_ resembled embarrassment. "You're good," he mumbled, making your cheeks flush slightly. "Thanks," you replied awkwardly, unaccustomed to having other people read your writing. You exited the room to retrieve the last items from the bathroom. After shoving it all into the free spaces in the main compartment, you flipped the lid shut. You fumbled with the zipper on the satchel, fingers clumsily pulling it closed.

While you were busy tucking the items from your desk into the front pouches, Nic watched you intently. He was waiting for you to give him further instructions, but was also quite enjoying the blush that bloomed across your skin the longer he looked at you. Finally, you placed the last item at the very front of the pouch, closing it quickly. You looked over at Nicolas and motioned for him to take the bag back to his apartment. He silently slipped off your bed and lifted it easily. You waited for him to leave before tidying your bed, unsure when you'd be able to sleep here again. You exhaled softly, leaving the bedroom and moving into your kitchen. There wasn't much that you really needed to take with you, but you tidied up nonetheless. Spying your small radio on the windowsill, you plucked it from its spot, tucking it into the crook of your arm. Glad you hadn't forgotten the item, you took a deep breath and faced the area you'd been avoiding.

Your once pristine couch now bore several large, muddy red-brown stains. You strode past it quickly, trying not to think about how much of your own blood had soaked into it. Or how much of it wasn't yours. You shivered, sharp memories of the attack flashing before your eyes. "Ugh," you muttered under your breath, "Fuckin' wonderful." You pressed your fingers to your forehead, closing your eyes. Standing in the middle of the apartment, you took deep, calming breaths. When you felt the radio being pulled from your grip, you lifted your eyes upwards, meeting Nic's curious gaze. <OK?> he signed, watching you closely. <Yeah, I just...needed to see it, before I left,> you responded, gesturing to the couch behind you. 

He narrowed his eyes at you, but let it slide. <Are you hungry?> he questioned, and your sudden pang of hunger made you nod quickly. He grabbed your hand wordlessly, pulling you out of the apartment behind him. Pausing long enough to let you lock your door, he started down towards the street. You stopped, gently tugging on his hand. He looked back at you, pinning you with a mildly confused expression. <Can..can I cook something for us instead?> you signed hesitantly, heart in your throat as you waited for him to answer. He mulled over your offer for a moment before agreeing with a dip of his head. You couldn't help beaming at him, and excitedly dragged him behind you. He let a smile slip as he followed.

Dancing down the stairs to Nic's half of the apartment, you started to think of what you should make. Opening the fridge, you took stock of what was available. The recipe for your favorite stew popped into your mind. You set to work preparing the ingredients, every so often asking Nicolas where a certain item was. So focused were you on your task, you didn't notice the way he monitored your movements. Noting the relaxed position of your shoulders, and how your hands gracefully flitted over the work-space. You would pause every so often, knife or spoon in midair as you tried to recall a part of your recipe. Nico was definitely enjoying his vantage point; he watched you purse your mouth, and barely reined in a groan when you bit your bottom lip. 

Apparently he didn't smother the noise as well as he thought, because your eyes shot over to him. A smirk spread across your face when he cleared his throat, embarrassed, and pointedly shifted his gaze to something on the far side of the room. You shook your head as you turned back to the stock pot. Soon you felt his gaze on you again, and decided to give him a little tease. Adding the last of the ingredients, you dropped the dirty dishes into the sink for later. While returning a few items to the fridge, you turned your back to Nic. Bending at the waist, you slid them one by one into place. You grinned to yourself when you heard another low groan from across the room. 

You suppressed your smile as you twirled around, feigning innocence when your gaze fell on Nic. He looked extremely uncomfortable, shifting in his seat several times. He finally set his elbow on the arm of the chair, resting his cheek on his fist, a _desperately_ frustrated expression settling on his face. You quickly turned your head in an effort to hide your soft snort. You removed the lid from the pot, setting it on the counter. Stirring it for a few moments, you lifted a spoonful of the mixture to your mouth, blowing on it briefly before giving it a taste. Sighing happily, you brought another sampling up to cool. Peering over your shoulder at Nic, you gestured for him to try it. He visibly swallowed, pushing himself up from his seat.

He tried to exude confidence as he walked over, but you could feel the tension flowing from him. Your heart started beating in double time as he approached, and you carefully offered up the spoon to him. He never broke eye contact as he gently wrapped his fingers around yours and lifted the ladle to his mouth, draining the contents. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his lips while he licked a stray drop of broth from them. Suddenly recalling how his mouth felt against yours, heat flared through your body. 

Your bravado from earlier all but forgotten, you swiftly spun back to the stove. Nic leaned on the counter, too enraptured by your presence to return to his seat. He watched your lips move as you informed him it was almost ready. He barely managed to nod in acknowledgement. You flicked your eyes to him, a question evident in your expression. When you lifted an eyebrow, he realized you had asked him something. <Sorry, what?> he signed, trying to recover his focus. <I asked if you could grab a couple bowls while I take this off the heat,> you responded, a playful smile gracing your features. He hurried to grab the items, using the distraction to shake a bit of the haze from his mind. _That was too damn close_ , he thought to himself, his chest fluttering wildly, _I nearly pinned her against the counter, for fuck's sake._

You also used the short break to pinch your cheek lightly, trying to get a grip on your pounding heart. When he returned with the bowls, you ladled out a serving for each of you. Handing Nicolas his, you flicked the heat off before picking yours up and following him. He sat on the floor, leaning against the front of the chair. You motioned for him to scoot over so you could sit next to him. At any other time, he would have been annoyed, but he was delighted that you wanted to be so close. Settling into a comfortable silence, the two of you enjoyed your supper. Nic nearly inhaled his and soon was heaving himself off the floor to get another helping. 

As he turned to walk back towards you, he stopped when he noticed your amused smirk. <What?> he signed to you. <Don't you want to leave any for Worick?> you responded, your smile growing. He pretended to think about it for a moment, then shrugged. You let out a loud laugh, returning to your own bowl. He smiled, plopping down next to you. Finishing yours shortly, you set it alongside you. Drawing your outside knee towards your chest, you rested your elbow against it and set your chin in your hand. Nicolas didn't take long to finish his second bowl, and reached across you to grab yours. The sudden proximity made you hold your breath, exhaling softly when he stood to place the dishes in the sink. 

He returned to his seat beside you, patting his stomach contentedly. <So, how was it?> you asked, bumping his shoulder with yours softly. He stared at you for a minute, before cracking a sly smirk. <Acceptable,> he replied, grinning when you rolled your eyes. <Uh-huh. Sure. That why you _inhaled_ it?> you retorted, poking him in the side as he snorted. He hauled you into his lap without warning, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You couldn't help the pleasant shudder that ran down your spine while Nic brushed his nose against your ear. "It was really good, (Y/N). Thank you," he mumbled against your skin. Your heart pounded violently, and warmth flooded through you. 

When he pulled back from you, your eyes met. You didn't fail to notice the faint rosy tint dusting Nic's cheeks. His gaze dropped to your mouth when you tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth. You felt a jolt in your core as he brought a hand up to your cheek, rubbing his thumb along the lip you held captive. You released it, leaning into his touch. You smiled at him, gaining a smirk from him as well. A hunger filled his eyes that made your stomach flip. He drew his face towards yours again, pausing halfway. Waiting, to make sure you wanted this. You didn't give him a second to rethink it as you crashed your mouth against his.

Nic froze, startled for a moment. He soon melted into you with a ferocity that fanned the flame he had lit deep within you. You slid both hands to the back of his neck, threading one into his hair. He moaned softly into your mouth. You both fought to keep up with one another, doing battle in the form of lips, and teeth, and tongues. Your breath was ragged, and you felt a heady rush cloud your mind. His free hand slid up the back of your shirt, the sudden contact making you inhale harshly. Nicolas took the opportunity to drag his lips across your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses as he went. You gasped loudly, tugging sharply on his hair. He dragged his tongue along the curve of your jaw before nipping lightly at the skin below your ear. 

Dizzy with sensation, you dropped one hand to his stomach, pushing his shirt up. When you raked your nails across his abs, he groaned into your ear, the sound making you quiver. You slid your hand upwards to his chest, his shirt bunching above your wrist. He broke away from you for a moment to pull it over his head. Tossing it across the room, he laid siege to your mouth again. Your hands roamed across his chest and shoulders, scraping your nails against his skin every so often. He slipped his hand underneath your shirt once more, gently massaging your back.

Your breath was stolen from you every time his tongue brushed yours, and you were so filled with need, you were ready to burst. Nic gently tugged your shirt off, throwing it into a pile with his. Carefully avoiding your bandaged stomach, he ran his fingers across your skin, leaving waves of heat in their wake. You broke your mouth away from his, dragging your lips across his jaw, to his neck and finally his ear. As you nibbled on his earlobe and licked the shell of his ear, soft, stuttering gasps fell from Nic's lips. He tightened his grip on you, suddenly sinking his teeth into the space between your neck and shoulder. 

You cried out, partially in pain, mostly in pleasure. Your nails dug into his skin, nearly breaking the surface. Nicolas growled, sweeping you into his arms and drawing you both off the floor. Gently dropping you onto his bed, he fell beside you, pulling you close. Your hair fell in your face, and he tucked it behind your ear, hungrily yanking your lips to his. Your skin burned where it touched his, drenching you both in hazy passion. You entangled your legs together, holding each other tight. One of his hands wound into your hair at the base of your skull. You responded by raking your nails down his side. 

His muscles bunched and flexed underneath your fingers as you trailed them down to his waistband. Dipping just the tips beneath the band, Nic inhaled sharply, sucking his stomach in. He quickly grasped your wrist, pulling your hand up to his face. Placing a harsh kiss against your palm, he dragged his lips to the inside of your wrist, gently nipping the tender flesh. His breath tickled your skin and you couldn't help the giggle that fell from your mouth. A lopsided grin spread across his lips and he pressed another soft kiss to the inside of your wrist. 

The break gave you time to catch your breath, heavy panting from both parties. Your faces bore a matching rosy tint, lips swollen from aggressive kisses. Nicolas noted the faint bruises he'd inflicted with a modicum of pride, hoping you wouldn't be too upset about them. He watched with interest as you spoke, "That was....intense." Your heart pumped steadily in your chest, beating out a firm rhythm. A grin spread Nic's mouth as he nodded. He pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, untangling himself enough so he could sign properly, <Almost got carried away again.> You giggled, stretching your body out on the bed. <I should probably take care of the food,> you signed, sitting up slowly.

Nicolas trailed behind you as you crossed the room to the stove. He pressed a brief kiss to the back of your neck before reaching to run water in the sink. You carefully poured the rest of the stew into a bowl, placing it in the fridge for Worick. Handing Nic the emptied pot, you ran upstairs to write a quick note for the blond man. The streetlights shone softly through the windows, and you were amazed it was dark already. Placing the note near Worick's carton of cigarettes, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. You yawned sharply, deciding it was probably a good time to sleep. 

When you returned downstairs, Nicolas had finished the dishes and was drying his hands with a well-worn towel. He regarded you with a calm expression, gesturing to you, <It's late. You need to rest.> You nodded, climbing into his bed and burying your face in a pillow. Hearing the light click off above the sink, you felt the bed dip down as Nic slid in next to you. He wrapped an arm under your bust, avoiding your wounds. Gently pulling your back flush against his chest, he brushed his nose across your ear. "Good night," he mumbled, and you twisted your head to place a kiss on his lips. Snuggling up to him, you sighed peacefully. _Tomorrow, I go to Bastard._ With that thought, you drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're still here! Thank you! Hopefully you love reading these characters as much as I love writing them!
> 
>  
> 
> All characters related to Gangsta belong to Kohske.

The next morning was quite peaceful. You'd not had any awful dreams or other interruptions the whole night. Waking up slowly, you noted how warm the blankets were. A deep sensation of comfort had settled into your bones, and you did _not_ want to move. But nature was calling, and you couldn't ignore it. As you flung the covers off you, a discontented groan sounded behind you. An arm wrapped under your bust, tightened, and pulled you closer to it's owner. Twisting your body, you came face to face with an adorably crabby Nicolas. His mussed hair paired well with one eye _barely_ cracked open.

You gave him a small grin, pecking his nose quickly. <Mornin', grumpy,> you signed, giggling when he scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue. You tried again to roll out of bed, but he wouldn't let go. Instead, he buried his face in your neck, pressing feather-light kisses up and down your shoulder. "Niiiiiiiic," you whined playfully, knowing he could feel the vibrations of your voice against his lips. You pushed on his chest, hard, to keep him from getting you worked up. <I need to get up, silly. And so do you,> you chastised him, <We'll just get carried away all over again.> He frowned, rough voice even deeper with sleep, "Fine with me." You fought back another giggle, pinching his cheek. You slid out of bed, tugging on his arm.

He was about as easy to move as a stubborn horse, which oddly enough is exactly what you felt you were doing. You had nearly gotten him off the bed, when you heard a door slam upstairs. Without thinking, you let go of Nic's hand, and in turn he fell face-first onto the floor. Covering your mouth in embarrassment, you knelt down in front of him. He pushed himself off the ground, grunting in minor pain. <I'm so sorry, are you OK?> you signed frantically. Gingerly rubbing his forehead, he nodded. <You're stronger than you look,> he replied, pulling you to your feet as he stood. You chuckled, loosely grabbing his chin in your fingers. Inspecting his face as he stared at you with a surprised expression, you gave a satisfied nod and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Before he could wrap you up in his arms again, you danced away from him, gesturing that you were claiming the bathroom for a few minutes. When you emerged, you noticed he wasn't in the room. Retrieving your shirt from the floor, you pulled it over your head quickly. As you stuffed your arms through the sleeves, you noted that you weren't as sore as you had been the last few days. _Amazing what a good night's sleep can do._ The faint sound of voices trailed down from above you. Among the unfamiliar voices, you could only pick out Worick's. Climbing the stairs, the voices grew stronger, and you heard Worick's unmistakable laughter.

Peeking your head around the corner, you first noticed that it wasn't yet light out. Secondly, you observed two men standing with their backs to you. One was a rather tall dark-skinned man with long, brown dreadlocks, pulled up in the back, and the other, a man with pale skin and vibrant, short red hair. They both wore well-tailored dress suits; the taller man's was a crisp white while the other's was a classic black piece. Their posture was quite relaxed. Worick spoke to them with an easy smile on his face. Nic was seated in one of the cushy chairs, an extremely bored expression plastered on his features. Nicolas perked up minutely as he spied you out the corner of his eye. He turned his head towards you and gestured for you to come in. Worick finally noticed you and grinned brightly. "Ah! Our queen graces us with her presence," he chirped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. You stuck your tongue out at him, and he chortled loudly, drawing the attention of the men standing opposite him.

They both turned to face you as you padded quietly into the room. The taller man's face was covered in piercings, as were his ears, catching the glow of the overhead lights as he twisted towards you. His grin spread wide across his broad face. You smiled somewhat shyly in return. The shorter individual regarded you with calm amber eyes, and a neutral smile. You approached them, and the dark-skinned man was the first to extend his hand to you. Now that you were up close, you noticed the tags barely tucked into his shirt. _Huh, interesting._  His massive paw engulfed yours as he shook it firmly, "Hi there, little lady, I'm Galahad Woehor! It's a great pleasure to meet you!" The energy this man gave off was exceptionally contagious, and you found yourself smiling widely in turn.

Galahad released your hand, and the other man stepped forward. You noticed a scar the length of your smallest finger across his chin. He took your hand, gently pressing a kiss to the back. "Hello, Miss (Y/N). I am Asher Dal'agglio. As my colleague said, it is a delight to make your acquaintance. We shall be escorting you this morning," his polite voice was thick with an accent you couldn't quite place. You didn't miss the annoyed look on Nico's face as the man released your hand. "Ah, hello. It's nice to meet both of you. Sorry for making you wait," you replied, smiling at them pleasantly. You were rewarded with a bright smile from Galahad, and a slightly less neutral expression from Asher. Making your way to the seat beside Nicolas, you plopped down, feeling slightly awkward.

Worick clapped his hands together, breaking the silence, "Well! Introductions are done. Is there anything we need to know before you whisk her away, boys?" He looked at the men pointedly. "Miss Cristiano thought it might be best if the two of you limit your contact with Miss (Y/L/N). It would be quite unfortunate to let her father in on her whereabouts, since you are taking such precautions to keep her hidden," Asher replied smoothly. The look on your face must have made your thoughts clear, because Galahad scrambled to reassure you. "Uh, that doesn't mean you won't be able to see them at all! They have to pop in every so often for business, so it won't draw any suspicion!"

You had to admit, that did make you feel better. Still, your stomach started to clench apprehensively. "Also, it would be wise to make an effort to disguise your appearance before we leave. Perhaps something with a large hood?" the redhead suggested. You nodded, knowing just the thing to use. Asher acknowledged your response with a curt nod, giving Galahad a deliberate look. "We'll wait for you outside the door. I'm sure you want to say your goodbye's," his glance between you and Nicolas was almost imperceptible. With that, both men exited the apartment.

Worick strode over to you, pulling you to your feet and into a sincere hug. You squeezed him tightly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He slid his hand to your butt and gave it a quick stroke before releasing you. You glared at him, but couldn't help the exasperated grin on your face. He beamed at you, patting your shoulder. "I've got a few words to say to the boys before you leave. Don't keep 'em waiting too long," he chuckled. The door closed behind him and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

Hearing the creaking of the wood floor behind you, you turned sharply, bumping straight into Nic's solid frame. He swiftly grabbed your shoulders, steadying you. You lifted your gaze to his. The warm expression he wore lessened your anxiety, and you relaxed into him. Wrapping your arms around his stomach, you squished your good cheek against his chest. Nicolas held you tight to him, basking in the comfort your embrace brought him. The two of you stood there like that for some time, before you begrudgingly loosened your hold. <I guess I should go change,> you motioned, reluctance plain on your face. He nodded, grasping your hand tightly in his and tugging you behind him. Leading you into the bathroom, he reached around the corner to grab both of your bags from their resting place against the wall.

You gave him an appreciative smile before closing the door. Carefully picking your way through the meticulously packed items, you retrieved the largest hooded sweater you had. Choosing a plain short-sleeved shirt and loose pants, you stripped off the outer layer of clothes. Stuffing the articles into a free space in your backpack, you slipped the new garments on quickly. Closing the zippers on both packs, you pulled the hood as far over your face as you could. Sighing deeply, you took a moment to collect your thoughts. _This is all happening so fuckin' fast. Still can't believe it's only been a week and a half since everything went to shit._ You shook your head to yourself, and slung the backpack over one shoulder.

Quietly, you opened the door. Nic shifted from his position against the wall. Striding over to you, he took the pack from you, setting it on the floor. He took your face into his hands and pressed his lips to yours abruptly. The flush on your cheeks was instantaneous. You softened into his embrace, sliding your fingers up his chest. He slipped a hand to the small of your back, holding you tight to him. Just as suddenly as the kiss started, Nicolas pulled away. Only far enough to rest his forehead against yours. You held gazes steadily, saying all you needed to without uttering a word. Wrapping your arms around one another, you briefly squeezed each other tightly.

Once again, you reluctantly let your limbs fall from each other. Nicolas bent to lift your bags from the floor, handing your backpack to you. Slowly threading your arms through the straps, you headed towards the front door, Nic following after. Pulling the door open, you caught the attention of the three men standing outside. Worick gave you a knowing smile, and stepped out of the way. Galahad reached behind you and took the bag from Nicolas. The tall man strode down to one of the two black vehicles waiting in the darkened street below.

Worick gave you a chaste parting kiss on the cheek before vanishing into the apartment. Nic leaned against the door frame, watching as you descended the steps behind Asher. Pausing at the bottom, you looked up to him for a moment, before turning and sliding into the back seat of the vehicle in the rear. Nicolas stood in the doorway for a long time after you left, staring at the street. Worick noted the odd look on Nic's face, softly chuckling to himself.

* * *

 

The drive was longer than you thought it would be, but you figured it had something to do with all the unnecessary twists and turns they took. _No one can ever say these people aren't fucking thorough._ You leaned your face in your palm, setting your elbow on the armrest. You stared out the window, not really looking at anything. By the time you arrived at the brothel, daybreak was barely beginning to spread across the horizon. Asher opened the door for you, and politely assisted you in stepping out of the vehicle. Pulling the hood down tight over your face, you followed the redhead. He and Galahad led you to an unmarked door at the top of a short set of stairs. Rapping his knuckles on the door in a distinct manner, the shorter man waited a few moments before pushing it open.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness of the room. Once you did, you noticed a figure reclining against a stack of crates in front of you. He had short black hair and possessed a strikingly familiar scar running from under his left eye back to his ear. After a long moment, it finally clicked. The breath froze in your lungs, and your eyes widened sharply. A tidal wave of emotions and memories crashed down upon you. You blinked several times, trying to assure yourself this was real.

 _"S-Spas?!"_ you gasped, promptly dropping your backpack on the ground. He smiled easily at you, extending a hand towards you. "It's good to see you after so long.... _Seraph,_ " he said softly, allowing you to process what you were seeing. In an instant, you threw yourself against the man's chest. He chuckled, gently patting your back.

Asher and Galahad exchanged confused glances behind you before the dark-skinned man blurted out, "Uh, so hey, Marco? What's going on here?" _Oh. Shit. Right._ You quickly pulled away from your old friend, clearing your throat in an embarrassed manner. "You remember what I used to do, right Gal?" The towering man nodded, "Well, this young lady used to do it, too." The shocked expressions on their faces were almost comical, if not for the jolt of shame you felt at the mention of your former life.

"'Yeah, yeah. I'm still four years older than you, ya know," you retorted, stifling your guilt. The man laughed loudly. "Ha! You're right about that," he said. His smile was infectious, and you found yourself returning a demure smile of your own. "Well now," he started, "I suppose I should formally introduce myself." He made a show of respectfully bowing to you. Laughter bubbled up your throat. "Marco Adriano, at your service."

You smiled, curtsying dramatically, "(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). It is a _pleasure_ to be in your company once more." Galahad busted out laughing, " _Damn_ _!_  You two are ridiculous. I love it!" Asher tried to hide a chuckle behind his hand, and failed miserably. "Oh yeah, you'll do _just fine_ here!" Galahad slapped your back, still guffawing. You nearly stumbled under the weight of his hand, but caught yourself in time. An easy grin spread across your face. In the presence of these men, you noted your apprehension lessening some. _Maybe this won't suck as bad as I thought._

"Well, shall we show you to your room, (Y/N)?" Marco gestured behind him. You lifted your backpack from the floor, slipping the straps over your shoulders. You were about to follow after him, but you stopped suddenly, turning to the two men lingering behind. "Oh, by the way," you started, catching their attention, "I'd prefer if you kept my former employment to yourselves for the time being." They nodded perceptively, and you smiled sweetly. As you walked away, you heard Galahad call after you that he'd bring up your satchel later.

The room was half the size of your apartment, but it was in a strategic location that offered a quick escape if needed. Additionally, Marco had thought to make sure it was tucked away from the..."client rooms"...as he put it. And you were also grateful for that. While you could care less about the practices of the brothel, you weren't particularly fond of trying to sleep next door to such... _loud_...activities. You set your bag on the mattress, slowly turning, taking in the room. "A little color would be nice," you joked dryly. Marco huffed a short laugh from the doorway. "I'm certain Miss Cristiano would agree," he said calmly, peering around the space.

"If you would like to change into something more befitting of meeting the family head, I'll have one of the other two come escort you down," he started to move down the hall to give you privacy. A thought dawned on you, and you rushed to the door to call after him. He turned, giving you an expectant look. "Does....Does Miss Cristiano know about...before?" you asked, a faint wave of trepidation sliding down your spine. His smile turned soft, and he shook his head, "If you wish to keep it from her for the time being, that is your choice. But seeing as how she's kept me around so long, I don't think you'll have much to worry about." You nodded, releasing a breath and sliding backwards into your room.

Before you could close the door completely, there was a loud knock. As you pulled it open, Galahad stood with your bag in his hand. "Thought you might need this," he said brightly. You smiled and quietly thanked him. Shutting the door once more behind you, you flopped the large case onto your bed beside your backpack. You slipped out of your loose clothes and carefully dug through your duffel.

You selected a simple, form-fitting charcoal grey shirt. Its sleeves ended just below your elbow. Digging a little further, you found your favorite skirt. A tight, blush-colored piece that fell just above your knees and had a delicate lace overlay of the same color. Choosing a pair of modest black flats, you zipped up your bags and meticulously folded your discarded clothing. Peering into the small mirror on the wall opposite your bed, you fluffed your hair up as best you could. You grimaced at the lingering mark on your face, huffing in annoyance. _Probably shouldn't keep the lady waiting._ You took one last look out the window before turning towards the door.

Cautiously pulling it open, you sniffed lightly, turning your head to the right. Galahad stood at attention just outside the door. He shifted his gaze to you, his eyes widening in admiration of your choice of outfit. His eyes raked over your form appreciatively, and he grinned widely. "Heeeey, lookin' fine, girlie!" You smiled softly in response. He gestured for you to follow him. The two of you exchanged friendly conversation as you walked towards the main entertaining space.

* * *

 

When you exited the hallway, you strode along the balcony, looking out over the main room. A rather well-stocked bar sat on one side, while a moderately sized stage sat across from the bar. You gaped when you noticed the gorgeous baby grand piano. Galahad chuckled, directing you down the staircase. In the corner, a large family sized booth took up a good portion of the wall. Several people were seated at the table, engaged in a heated discussion. Asher and Marco sat on either side of a rather young blonde girl. Her clothing was modest, but well-tailored and suited her nicely. As you approached, they all settled their attention on you.

Marco smiled warmly, nodding reassuringly to you. He stood, allowing the young woman beside him to slide out. While at least a full head shorter than you, what she lacked in height she made up for in confidence. She had a calm, but stern, expression on her face. Extending her hand to you, she clasped yours tightly. The strength in her grip, and the fire in her eyes startled you. "Loretta Cristiano Amodio. Welcome to Bastard, (Y/N)," she declared. You didn't miss the lightning fast flick of her eyes to your cheek. "Thanks for taking me in Miss Cristiano. I'll do my best to earn my keep," you replied.

She smiled, a steady tone to her voice, "That's what I like to hear. I've been briefed on the basics of the situation. But...if you're comfortable discussing more, I'm happy to lend an ear. There isn't much I haven't seen or heard in this city. You're under our protection now. In my eyes, you're as good as family here." You nodded, the edges of your mouth lifting. _I like her. She's got quite the presence._ "Plus, I don't like being in the dark about the people I'm harboring. So...when you're ready, let's talk," the sincerity in her voice was clear, but the warning in her eyes was obvious. She turned to Marco, pinning him with an expectant look. He nodded, shifting his gaze to you.

"Miss Cristiano has arranged to have you fitted with a new set of uniforms. In order to avoid you being spotted out on the streets as much as possible, our tailor will be arriving shortly to take your measurements. And don't worry, the Cristiano Family will take care of the bill," the man said, gesturing to a door on his right. "Thank you, again. I don't know how I'll be able to repay you after this," you said, giving Loretta and the others an appreciative look. "Hey! Didn't you hear Marco? Don't worry about it. You're part of the family now," the young woman stated firmly, a hint of smile touching the edges of her mouth. Too intimidated to argue, you nodded enthusiastically.

Following Marco into the next room, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. "Pretty intense, right?" his voiced startled you, and you laughed lightly. "Yeah. Being head of the family definitely suits her. She'll be a great leader," you smiled, imagining her years from now. The man chuckled, a warm expression touching his features. "She already is. We're all exceptionally proud of her. She's already more like her old man than she knows," he laughed, fondly remembering Miss Cristiano's father. "So how are you doing, really? From what Worick told me, you've had a hell of a rough time lately," he turned his attention to you once more. "Yeah, that's putting it fuckin' mildly. It's been one damn thing after another," you sighed heavily.

"I spent so long running from my father, trying to stay away from his influence. I was lucky enough to not have inherited his sick view of the world. People like him are what's wrong with this place," you clenched your hands together, sorrow and anger in your eyes as you shifted them to Marco, "Do you know the things I've heard? The shit people say about them? About Twilights?" The man nodded, a grim expression that mirrored yours. You stared at the floor bitterly. "It's so damn _frustrating_. Why do they hate them so much? They're just _people_. You and I are just as strong, if not stronger, as any of them. _We're_ considered essential. While _they_ are used as slaves and treated worse than animals. If they're given the chance to live at all." You started to feel sick to your stomach. "Heh, I should cool it a little. I'm getting myself too worked up here." Taking a calming breath, you stood up straighter, wiping your palms off on your skirt.

Marco watched you intently. "There's this woman I know. Runs a gun shop. I think you two would get along well," he smiled, subconsciously spinning a silver band on his left ring finger. "Yeah? Introduce me sometime, then," you grinned, nudging him with your elbow. He chuckled and quietly agreed. A soft knock at the door drew your attention, as well as his. "Come in!" he called. The door opened with a faint click, and a rather tall, slender man that you guessed was in his early 60's appeared. "Ah, thank you so much for coming on such short notice," Marco regarded the man with a warm smile. The older gentleman nodded, setting several bags down at his feet. "This is an old friend of the Cristiano family. You can call him Mr. Josen. Been the family tailor for longer than you and I have been alive. He doesn't speak, but he can hear just fine."

Mr. Josen nodded in acknowledgement, smiling gently. Moving his packs to a nearby table, the elder man slipped off his jacket and set it on the back of a chair. He sifted through his bags, taking out several items. A small pin cushion appeared on his upper arm and in his other hand was a rolled-up measuring tape. He approached you, unrolling the tape. You fidgeted for a moment, glancing briefly at Marco. Turning your attention back to the tailor, you raised your hands. Quickly gesturing at the gentleman, <Do you use sign language?> He paused, his eyes widening. <What a pleasant surprise,> he replied. You smiled brightly, inwardly celebrating. <This shouldn't take too long. Been doing it for so many years I can practically measure by sight,> he grinned, <So, shall we begin?>

* * *

 

While you were under protection at Bastard, Worick and Nicolas had been quite busy. Between the odd job, they were constantly working with their contacts around town to find any sign of your father. No one had been able to locate much, including Marco and Inspector Adkins. Even Monroe came up empty-handed. Each day that passed without a lead, Nic became increasingly upset. Not only was he unable to see you as he pleased, but they were having no luck bringing a resolution to your father's case. Which meant you still weren't safe from that lunatic.

There was _one_ positive thing that transpired about 3 weeks after you'd left. That shit-for-brains pimp, Barry Abbot, your attacker's former boss. He'd stirred up enough trouble for the Four Fathers throughout the city, and had finally crossed a line. This caused him to fall into the Handymen's cross-hairs. Nic thoroughly enjoyed offing this prick, knowing he'd no longer be coming after you. However, with this job, Worick decided to take a... _trophy_. One of Barry's call girls, a woman named Alex Benedetto. Nicolas was not too excited about keeping a stray, but he knew better than to argue with Worick. Once the blonde set his mind to something, there was no changing it.

She was nice enough, although she was also very shy and fidgety. Often, she seemed as though she was in a haze, and she rarely slept. Nic could recognize the signs of withdrawal a mile away, and a small part of him sympathized with the woman. She'd agreed to answer the phone when he and Worick would go out on jobs, which helped out considerably. Still, being around her made Nicolas uncomfortable. Not at all how he felt when he was near you. Alex tried her best to cooperate with Nic, but he wasn't keen on getting close. He knew it wasn't fair to her, but in the long run it would be better for everyone involved.

Shortly after taking care of Barry, there was the incident at Theo's clinic. A B/2 ranked Twilight and his gang were trying to scout the doctor. Theo had sent Nina with Nic's prescription and also to ask the Handymen for a favor. Though thoroughly annoyed, Nic still agreed. Hoping to let off some steam, he was itching to beat the daylights out of someone. Sadly, his opponent didn't last as long as he was hoping. Nic hadn't worked through nearly enough of his stress and anger. Not to mention he ended up getting chewed out by Inspector Adkins as there was a mess for the elder man to deal with.

Two more weeks flew by, and Nic was starting to get fed up. He was constantly in a bad mood, and felt like he wanted to pick a fight with anyone and everyone. Worick was busy trying to keep up with all their contacts, in addition to meeting with his clients _and_ paying attention to Alex. The blonde was also frustrated, and burnt out. He was tired of Nicolas' moping, and kicked him out of the apartment one day. Worick signed to the shorter man as he threw Nic his blade, <You're too fuckin' grumpy. I can't stand it anymore. Go and tell her about Abbot. It'll do you both some good to see each other.> Nic was unable to recall a time that he'd been so happy to get kicked out of his own place. He resisted the urge to take the shorter rooftop route, instead opting to use the side streets he'd become so familiar with. A gentle rain started to fall as Nicolas arrived at the back door of Bastard.

* * *

 

Six weeks passed by without much incident. You picked up on your duties fairly quickly at Bastard. Most patrons didn't bother you too much, but you'd get the occasional dipshit that thought it acceptable to grab your ass as you walked by. They would find out rather swiftly that that was not a wise choice. Marco had cautioned you against breaking anyone's limbs while you were working, and so far you'd managed to adhere to that rule. Multiple bruised hands and wrists were all you had caused. Though some nights were exhausting, you found that you enjoyed working at Bastard. Galahad was an excellent manager, and it was nice seeing your old pal around as well. Marco wasn't at the club as much as Gal, since he was Loretta's right-hand man, but you did see him every so often.

The bruises and puffy skin had dissipated after a couple weeks, but the scars would remain for quite some time. Some days, you swore you could still feel a hand around your throat. As a result, you would often subconsciously touch your fingertips to your neck. You wished that the mental trauma would heal as quickly as your body did. There were many mornings you woke in a panic, reliving the attack vividly in your mind.

On the days when you would need to go to Theo's, Asher would accompany you. In the time that had passed, the doctor felt that you were making good progress. "It seems your wounds have healed at an accelerated rate. I'd wager you're back to your normal state, more or less. Still, don't overexert yourself," he'd said on your third weekly visit; the sharp look in his eye had prompted you to nod convincingly. Nina would often be the one to send you off, passing along a message from Nico and occasionally one from Worick. Nic's were usually in sign. <Don't do anything stupid,> or <Stay safe,> were common. The latest one had made your face flush for nearly half an hour: <Miss you.> Nina had simply given you her sweet smile and sent you and Asher on your way.

One rainy afternoon, just a couple hours past midday, there was a knock on your door. The noise pulled you from your comfortable reading haze. Grumbling lowly that it was your day off, you sat up. You marked your page and slipped off the bed. Stretching briefly, you groaned as you walked to the door. Yawning, you pulled it open as another knock sounded. Flicking your eyes open lazily, you froze. Nicolas was standing in the doorway, his signature smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. Your heart began thudding in your chest rapidly, and you had to blink a couple times to make sure you weren't seeing things.

" _Nicolas_ ," you breathed out his name, chest swelling with joy. His smirk grew into a full-blown grin as he stepped into your room, softly closing the door behind him. You both stared for a moment, basking in one another's presence. Before you could say anything, Nic had wrapped you in his arms. He pressed you firmly against him, and you sighed happily, slipping your arms around his waist. _Holy fucking shit did I miss this._ Nic rested his cheek on top of your head, inhaling deeply. Your familiar scent, amber and black plums, washed over him, soothing his tired mind. The embrace lasted for several minutes, until you pulled away slightly to look up at him. You shifted, raising one hand to his cheek. Gently running your fingertips across his skin, you slid your hand to the back of his neck, tugging him down to you.

He quickly obliged, molding his mouth against yours. Nic sighed deeply the moment your lips touched, not realizing until now just how much he had missed this. He brought both hands up to your face, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. You clung to the front of his shirt, having been starved of this man's affection for far too long. You continued the embrace until you were both breathless. Nic rested his forehead against yours, and you smiled up at him. He grinned, a light flush settling at the tops of his ears. Emotionally sated for the time being, you pulled away from each other.

<I have good news for you,> he gestured, watching as your face lit up in anticipation. <Well don't keep a girl waiting. Spill it,> you responded, plopping down on your bed and gazing up at him. Nic paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you perched at the edge of the bed, feet dangling above the floor like a child. Mentally shaking himself, he let you in on what had transpired in your absence. He relished in the look of relief that passed over your face when you learned Barry would never bother anyone again. Although, he couldn't decipher the expression you wore as he told you about Alex. <So is she staying with you guys?> you asked him, genuinely curious. He nodded hesitantly, unsure of what you thought of that fact.

You stared at the floor for a moment, collecting your thoughts. _From what I could find about Abbot, it's likely this girl was given drugs to prevent her running off. Who knows what the shit did to her memory...She probably doesn't have anywhere else to go. Benriya is the safest place for her to be 'til she gets back on her feet._ Nodding decisively to yourself, you raised your eyes to meet Nic's. <I'd like to meet her,> you stated. The shock on Nic's face was evident; whatever reaction he'd been expecting from you, that wasn't it. <Sure, when it's safe,> he responded quickly. A small amount of weight fell from your shoulders, and you felt you could breathe just slightly easier.

With one part of the problem gone, you now only had to worry about the remaining issue. You hesitated before asking the question Nic had been dreading, <Any word on my father's whereabouts?> The man grimaced, annoyance and frustration flashing in his eyes. He grumbled softly before replying. <Not a fucking thing. No trace of him anywhere. Its like the guy never existed,> he gestured sharply. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to keep his temper from flaring up. Nic's large hands balled into fists at his side. _I hate not being able to give her a better answer. She's been through more than enough with that asshole_ , the man thought to himself.

He flinched slightly when he felt your slender fingers pry one fist open. Gaze falling on you, he regarded you with an odd expression. "It's okay. I know you're both trying. That's what matters. He's not going to be an easy man to find. Don't beat yourself up over it," you said softly, giving him a gentle smile. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help." Nic nodded, mulling his thoughts for a moment. <Would there be anyone in this city that he'd have helping him?> You pondered his question, wracking your brain for anyone you could remember. A face flashed through your mind, but the name eluded you.

<There's....one person I can think of...but,> you started, screwing your face up as you tried to grasp the edges of a vision you'd long since shoved to the back of your mind. Nic waited patiently, dragging the only chair in the room over to face you. He sat down, crossing his ankle over his knee. You pressed the fingertips of one hand to your temple, rubbing circles in an effort to jog your memory. <I can't...remember his name,> you finished, glancing up at Nicolas. <Think you could describe him?> Nic asked, hoping you could remember his face at the very least. To his delight, you nodded. <He's got a big scar across his forehead. Blonde hair. Usually pulled back in a ponytail at the base of his neck. Fuckin' _hates_ Twilights, like with every fiber of his being. Wants 'em all dead. Doesn't matter how,> you responded, a sudden bitterness filling you.

A dangerous expression clouded Nic's face, and he growled in anger. _Great. Just fucking great_ , he thought to himself. <Where's Gal? We need to get Worick over here,> he gestured rapidly, pulling you up with him as he stood. You tugged your hand in his grip, getting his attention. He glanced down at you, noting your confused look. "What's wrong, Nic?" you asked, brows furrowing together. He frowned, signing that he'd tell you after Worick arrived. You agreed reluctantly, leading him through the halls to Gal's office. Knocking sharply, you waited a few moments until you heard the man call you in.

He grinned when he saw you and Nic enter together, mentally commenting that Nicolas was a lucky man. His cheerful smile dropped when he noticed the concerned expression on your face, mirroring the angry look on Nic's. "What's got you two looking so gloomy?" the dark-skinned man asked, switching his gaze between the two of you. "Do you think you could get Worick over here? I remembered something that might be helpful to him," you wasted no time, wanting to relay your information to Worick before it disappeared again. Gal nodded, picking up the phone and dialing the Handyman.

You heard a woman's voice answer and assumed it was the woman Worick had snagged from the Abbot job. Waiting as the larger man finished the conversation, you glanced over at Nic. He was staring at the floor, deep in thought. Nudging him with your elbow, you raised an eyebrow. <If I'm right about the person you described, it's gonna mean a lot of trouble for us all,> he answered your unspoken question. Anxiety flared in your chest, and you felt an odd mixture of fear and trepidation slide down your spine. Thankfully, Galahad finished the call and turned his attention back to you, before your thoughts could pull you inward.

"Worick should be over soon. Alex managed to catch him on his way out and relayed the message to him," he leaned back in his chair, linking his hands together behind his neck. "You don't happen to know where Marco and Loretta are, do you? They might want to hear this, too," you felt like a nuisance for asking, but you had a gut feeling they needed to be there. "They should both be here somewhere. I'll go find them. Want to wait for us down at the booth?" the man towered over the both of you as he stood, giving you an expectant look. "Sure," you replied, turning to Nic. He gave a nod for you to lead the way.

A short while later, the six of you were gathered around the biggest table in the main room. "So what was this piece of information you remembered?" Worick got straight to the point. You could see the exhaustion on his face, wondering to yourself when he'd last gotten a good night's sleep. "Nic asked me earlier if there was anyone my father might try to get support from," you started, making sure you had everyone's attention. You felt Nic's hand take yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "I don't remember his name. But I do remember his face." As you described the individual to them, a collective gloom quickly settled on the group. Galahad and Worick looked particularly upset. Loretta bore an extremely annoyed expression, and chewed on her thumb distractedly.

You glanced around the table, waiting for someone to give you a clue to the identity of the sinister character from your past. No one said anything for a long while, and you fidgeted uncomfortably in your seat. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer, and cleared your throat to get their attention. "Anybody gonna fill me in? Or are we all gonna sit here in silence for the rest of the night?" you inquired, minutely annoyed. They looked between each other, deciding who would be the first to speak. Nic, just as annoyed with the others, rolled his eyes and gruffly spat out a single name:

**"Corsica."**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey doke, friends. I'm not gonna lie, there's some seriously terrible parts in this chapter. Like, the rapey vibe is real. I absolutely DO NOT condone rape by any stretch of the imagination. It's wrong. Plain and simple. And while I do not condone it, the sad fact is that some people are genuinely awful.
> 
> As always, thank you for sticking around!
> 
>  
> 
> All characters related to Gangsta belong to Kohske.

The man's name resonated in your bones; echoed inside your mind. An avalanche of memories crashed down upon you, all color draining from your face. Your voice came out as a harsh whisper, " _Uranos_?" A couple of them nodded, discussion immediately flaring up around you. The general consensus was figuring out what to do next. Tensions were high, and soon arguments started. The chaos around you disappeared as your breathing shallowed. You cast your fearful gaze to the floor, trapped in a loop of memories you _thought_ had disappeared a long time ago. The visions playing behind your eyes held you captive.

_The breath in your throat was ragged, as you sprinted through the deserted warehouse. Your muscles were burning, screaming for a break, but you couldn't stop. Not when you had to escape the scene you'd stumbled into. The stench of death surrounded you, invading every pore. Pile upon pile of bodies; the corpses of Twilight children, some not much younger than you. The twisted expressions on their faces indicated they died neither quickly nor painlessly. You choked down a wave of vomit, and let out a horrified gasp. Immediately you regretted it, because the sound drew the attention of the men throwing more children onto a growing pile. They alerted a figure hidden from your sight; the man who had caused the heap of bodies. As he turned towards you, another wave of nausea clenched your stomach. Instead of anger crossing his face, he regarded at you with a mixture of gross fondness and disappointment. You'd seen that look before; you bolted almost instantly._

_You thought you'd gone far enough, that **he** wouldn't be able to find you. But you were wrong. So very, very wrong. You would soon find the stack of crates you'd wedged yourself behind served as a poor hiding place. At 13 years old, your body was starting to change, and you could no longer squeeze into many of your previous safe places. The man's face suddenly appeared in the opening you'd slipped into. His grin utterly horrifying. _

_"Precious little dove, why do you hide from me?" His voice sent a chill down your spine and once more you choked down the urge to vomit. He disappeared from view for a moment, until you felt the crates shifting in front of you. Each box they pulled from the stack, they set in the open space beside you. Soon, the only way out was through the hole they'd made in front. You desperately wished you could disappear into thin air._

_The sound of his cane clacking on the floor echoed throughout the room. Ice had replaced the blood in your veins, and you were frozen in place. The only other noise was the sound of your breath coming in short gasps. His grin grew wider with every step, until finally, he was within a few feet of where you had plastered yourself against the wall. He stretched a hand out, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. As he trailed his fingers down your neck to the top of your newly developed breasts, you couldn't help the disgusted shudder that ran through your body. You'd come to hate this man with every fiber of your being. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," he said quietly, raking his lecherous gaze over your trembling frame. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the blow you were sure to receive._

_Instead, you were roughly pulled from your spot by hands that weren't his. Heavy iron cuffs were slapped on your wrists, and you were dragged to the center of the room. The men beside you dropped you roughly onto the ground, and you scrambled to move yourself into a defensive position. Not that it made much of a difference. The older man stood above you, gazing down at you. "You disappoint me, little dove. I thought you'd be **happy** to see all these animals put out of their misery," he sighed in discontent, "And we were doing so well with you." Motioning to the men behind you, he turned on his heel, striding towards the exit. You felt hands pull at your clothing, and started to shut down in response. As he stood in the doorway, he gave you one last parting look. The words he had said too many times before, chilled you to your very core. "Remind her...there are things much worse than death_."

Drowning in the past, your mind was racing. You felt nauseated, your stomach tying itself in knots. The pounding within your chest was so strong that you thought your heart might give out. Violent tremors soon wracked your body, drawing Nic's attention. His eyes widened when he saw the hollow, terrified expression on your face. _Shit_ , he thought immediately, _This is worse than when she saw her father's note_. Nicolas kicked Worick's chair, hard. The blonde stopped mid-sentence and glared at his partner. Nic directed the man's gaze to you. "Dammit," he spat, taking in your shaking frame. He bolted out of his chair, knocking it over with a loud clatter. "Guys, back up, give her some space." The group paused their debate, seeing that you were in distress. They silently nodded to each other, and moved to the bar, where they continued the conversation in heated whispers. 

Meanwhile, Worick had pulled the table away from you, and Nic knelt on the ground in front of you. He held both your hands in his, trying to break through your haze. You vaguely registered the sensation, lifting heavily glazed eyes to meet his. For a long moment, you stared straight through him before you finally saw him. The concern written on his face flicked a switch in your mind. The constant stream of memories began to slow down. It took several minutes for them to release their hold of you. Even after they did, your heart still raced and you fought for breath. 

Worick hovered nearby, gesturing instructions at Nic. <Get her out of her head, try and make her focus on her breathing.> The shorter man nodded, turning his attention to you again. His rough voice directed you to control your breathing, pulling air in through your nose and slowly pushing it out through your mouth. It took about 15 minutes before you could finally breath properly on your own. Once Nic was satisfied that you had calmed down enough, he pulled himself off the ground. Dragging a chair over to face you, he enveloped your hands in his once more. You were exhausted, but you gave a light squeeze to Nic's fingers. "I'm better now," you smiled weakly, "Thanks." 

You felt drained, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and not come out for a week. _Hell, at this point, I'd settle for a couple days._ A hand gripped your shoulder lightly and you looked up to meet Worick's gaze. He grinned, giving a reassuring squeeze. "You good?" the man asked; the worried undertone in his voice was not lost on you. "Yeah...yeah, I'm good. Thanks, guys. Sorry if I freaked ya' out," you apologized, pulling a hand free and rubbing the back of your neck. "Hey, we just wanna make sure you're okay. I'm guessing you remembered something else from before?" You nodded, shivering involuntarily. Nicolas narrowed his eyes, gripping your hand tightly. 

<Just a shiver, Nico,> you reassured the man. You stared at the floor for a moment, before closing your eyes. Taking shuddering breaths when needed, you gave them a very basic replay of what you'd just relived. Worick looked like he was about to lose his lunch, and Nicolas was more angry than the blond had ever seen. A wave of dizziness swept over you, nearly tipping you out of your seat. Nic moved swiftly to catch you, steadying you in the chair. He glanced at Worick expectantly, and the man sighed, nodding. Nicolas swept you up into his arms. You were far too tired to complain, so you rested your head on his shoulder, burying your nose against his neck. 

The blond left you two alone for the moment, and walked over to the rest of the group. You could hear hushed tones that were too low for you to pick out anything of merit. Loretta nodded sharply, casting a worried glance towards you. Groaning, you closed your eyes and slid your arms around Nic's neck to hide your face. Nico shifted his gaze to you, noting the beads of sweat that remained on your forehead from the earlier attack. Dark bags painted under your eyes were painfully obvious to him, and he kicked himself internally. _Dammit. I should have known this was going to be rough for her_. He tightened his grip on you, mentally vowing to bury his blade in Corsica's throat someday. 

"Hey, (Y/N), listen. So, I'm gonna stay down here and go over what our options are with the others. Nic's taking you up to your room so you can get some rest. 'Cause frankly, you look like shit," Worick approached the two of you, briefly explaining what was going to happen for the night. A small smile crossed his face as you flipped him off while managing a nod of acknowledgement. He gave a tiny wave before returning to the group still gathered at the bar. 

Nicolas wasted no time in exiting the room. You fought to stay awake as he carried you through the building. But it was clear you were in a losing battle as you drifted in and out of sleep. Of the many times your eyes sleepily fluttered open, you made sense of what you were seeing only once. Nic's gaze fell on you, and even through the tired fog clouding your sight, the concern etched into his expression was clear. You _thought_ your fingertips traced a path from his cheek to his jaw, but you couldn't be sure. Despite your best efforts to stay awake, sleep finally claimed you.

* * *

 

The dreams that flickered in your mind that night were anything but peaceful, and you woke with a start. Your eyes were met with a darkened room, and it took a moment for your vision to adjust. A streetlight shone through the window, providing dim light. Squinting, you barely made out the numbers on the wall clock. _2:36 in the damn morning. Fuckin' wonderful._ You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, annoyed that you were even coherent. Shifting upright, you passed your gaze around the room. 

You jumped slightly when you noticed the form seated beside your door. Dog tags glinted as the figure adjusted their posture, and a sigh of relief fell from your lips. _Oh thank god, it's just Nic._ After a few more moments, your eyes had fully acclimated to the darkness. Glancing back at Nicolas, you met his intense stare and noted an air of concern surrounding him. An acute craving for physical contact overcame you, and you silently prayed Nic wouldn't deny your sudden compulsion. Sliding off the mattress, you dragged the comforter from the bed. You shuffled across the floor, wrapping the blanket around you protectively. Nicolas raised a brow as he carefully watched you approach him, tamping down an amused smirk. 

Coming to a stop between Nic's legs, you shivered as a chill ran through you. The motion didn't go unnoticed. He grimaced, straightening in his seat. You met his gaze, your unspoken question painted on your face. Nicolas hoped he was correctly reading the expression you bore. Carefully leaning forward and tugging on the back of your knees, you fell gently into his lap. A startled squeak tumbled from your lips, and you abandoned your hold of the blanket, clinging to him for support. The fabric slipped from your grasp, pooling into a soft pile at his feet. Nicolas chuckled, the noise rumbling deep in his chest. When your face flushed hot, you were thankful for the darkness of the room. 

Shifting to a more comfortable position, your legs dangled to one side. Wrapping your arms around Nic's neck, you rested your cheek against your shoulder. Nic's body heat seeped through your clothes, filling you with a comfortable warmth. You sighed, relaxing into him. Nicolas closed his eyes, allowing himself to relish in this embrace for as long as he could. Knowing full-well that he might not get the opportunity to do so for quite some time. _As long as her old man is around, she's not free. Not for good, anyway._ He gently tightened his hold of you, pressing a feather-soft kiss to your forehead.

Thoughts whirled around your mind, a torrential storm brewing that would not soon subside. The darkest depths of your being had been thrust back to the forefront, and there was no going back. Though your memories no longer had the power to drag you into an endless abyss, there was no denying the dark rift they had torn deep in your soul. The ache in your bones left you hollow. You could no longer hide from your past. It was time to stand and face your childhood demons. They had returned with a vengeance, and you weren't sure you could free yourself of them alone.

Another concern was the Handymen. You did not want to drag Nicolas and Worick any further into this mess than you already had. _I'm a grown woman. I need to start taking care of myself. They don't need the storm that's bound to come._ Subconsciously tightening your grip on Nic, you continued internalizing your guilt and anger. Meanwhile, Nicolas fixed his gaze on you, having felt your arms tense around his neck. Watching you carefully, he swore he could see the gears working frantically to keep up with your steady train of thought. Smirking to himself, he pinched your nose, effectively breaking you from your downward spiral. You squeaked, lightly smacking his hand and pinning him with a glare. He chuckled, and you gave a forced smile. 

You pulled your arms from his neck, letting your hands fall to your lap. Bowing your head to your fidgeting fingers, you closed your eyes, sighing bitterly. Narrowing his eyes, Nicolas tilted your face towards his. The suspiciously concerned expression he wore compelled you to allow him into your thoughts. In the faint lighting, you moved your hands deliberately, <I've got demons. They've caught up with me. I want to get rid of them, but I don't think I have the strength anymore,> you paused, giving Nic a moment to catch up, <You, and Worick, and all the others have been so amazing, helping me and protecting me the way you have. But none of you deserve my shit-show.>

Just as you were about the continue, Nico caught your hands in his. Startled, you watched as he flicked his own gestures through the air, <Gonna stop you right there. Sounds like you're trying to get rid of us. And that just isn't gonna fly.> You balked for a moment, and he went on, <We aren't leaving, so whatever you need, we'll be here.> " _I'll_ be here," Nicolas emphasized the last phrase by saying it out loud. He'd made it crystal-clear that you wouldn't be left to your own devices. The weight on your shoulders lessened by a measure, and unbidden tears welled up in your eyes. <So don't go doing anything stupid, got it?> You nodded, a genuine smile spread across your face, mirrored by the smirk tugging at the corner of Nic's mouth. 

Without giving him a warning, you pressed your lips against his, feeling his hard mouth soften under yours after a beat. The tenderness in both the kiss and Nic's careful embrace made your soul ache. A fierce desire to protect the small piece of happiness you'd found flared up inside your chest. _I'll be damned if I let them steal this from me. Enough. I'm going to take what I deserve. It's time._ Parting your lips from one another's, Nic was encouraged by the fresh wave of resolve swirling in your gaze. He watched your full lips mouth a silent 'thank you', and couldn't resist pulling you close to him once more. Tucking your head underneath his chin, you snuggled into his embrace. Before you knew it, your exhaustion had returned. Nicolas pulled the blanket from the floor, tugging it over you as you drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

 

After Nicolas had left the room with you in tow, Worick returned to the others. The somber expression on his face reflected the general mood of the group. Galahad was the first to speak, vocalizing what they all were thinking. "Just _had_ to be Corsica, didn't it? Of all fucking people," his grimace deepened as he thought of the repulsive man. "Is it possible that he already knows she's back in the city?" Marco chimed in, mentally hoping for the best. Loretta shook her head, firmly combating the idea, "If Uranos _did_ know, I guarantee she would already be dead. Either way, the fact that nothing's happened to her since she's been here, leads me to believe that he has no idea she's even in town. Or _alive_." Worick nodded in agreement with the young family head. 

"Personally, I'm more concerned with what her father has planned for her. Not to mention, if he has Uranos Corsica backing him, he'll have almost unfettered access to most of the city. Once he gets wind, it'll be tough to stop him. From experience, plus what (Y/N) has told me, he's one merciless bastard. He'll kill anyone that gets in his way," the blond stated, pulling a pack of smokes from his pocket. As he took a moment to light one, Asher, who had since joined the group and been informed of the situation, piped up from his place against the wall. "Perhaps we should give both men a false lead. Send them on a wild goose chase, and use the distraction to earn ourselves some more time." Marco pinned the man with an odd look, mentally working through the logistics of such a plan. Loretta seemed to think it over for a moment as well, her brows pulled together in concentration. 

"I think before we start setting up a distraction, we should try to get more intel. Find out where her father is, and if he's already hooked up with Corsica. I'd imagine we'll know very soon whether that old bastard is up on the take. He's not fond of waiting too long," Worick commented, exhaling a large puff of smoke. Gal grunted his agreement, resting his chin in one large hand. "Marco, check in with some of our guys around the city. See what they can dig up for us. I want them to go as deep as they can without endangering themselves," Loretta ordered, a firm tone entering her voice. "Gal, let the employees know that we're increasing security. We'll all need to be at our best. Contact the Guild and tell them we need to hire a few guys for a while." Her men nodded, knowing she meant business. 

"I think I know _just_ the ones I want. I'll give Hausen a ring. He'll be more than happy to send 'em our way," the large man replied, looking thoughtfully towards the direction of his office. Marco appeared beside him, nudging him to redirect his attention to their boss.

"We'll be having a party in a few weeks, and I want (Y/N) to be able to help with that. So I don't need this interfering with our activities," the young woman stood from the table, prompting the ones left sitting to rise as well. "Worick." The blond stiffened for a moment, "Yes, ma'am?" She pointed a finger at him sternly, "I am cordially inviting Benriya to this event, so make sure you're here with bells on." "You got it, Miss Cristiano," he replied with an easy smile. "Alright if I bring our newest member? I think she could use a little time out of the office." Loretta nodded, "Sure, I'd love to meet her."  
Clapping her hands together decisively, she met the gazes of all in the room. "Things are gonna get busy around here. Everyone, we will _all_ need to keep our guards up."

* * *

 

The next morning came far too early, in your opinion. Blearily rubbing the sleep from your eyes, the chill of the room found its way underneath the blanket, seeping into your skin. A glance out the window told you the sun would rise in roughly two hours. _Oh, where did Nic go?_ Your gaze shot to the door, finding the chair still sitting in front of it. Empty, save for the shirt draped across the back. You started to shift your body into a sitting position when you felt a warm limb clutch your waist. A stirring beside you drew your attention. Pulling the blankets further down, you discovered a very grumpy Nicolas staring at you through hazy, sleep-filled eyes. You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. <You're definitely not a morning person, are you?> you gestured at him, laughing when he stuck out his tongue. 

"Time is it?" he mumbled, withdrawing his arm as he sat up. <I'd say a little after 5,> you responded, sliding your eyes over to the clock to confirm. He glared at you in disgruntlement for a moment, prompting a chuckle from between your lips. You tried to slide out from under the covers, but Nic pulled you back down, tucking your body close. Your eyes met his and you gave him a questioning look, "Don't we need to get up, Nic?" He grumbled and tightened his arms around you. "Mm-mm. Too damn early. You need more sleep," his deep voice rumbled through your body, sending shivers down your spine. You smiled, closing your eyes and cuddling into his embrace.

"(Y/N)?" he said after a few minutes, pulling back so he could see your face. You hummed in response, flicking one eye open. The intense expression on his face startled you. "What's up?" you brought a hand up to his face, trailing your fingertips across his cheek. He sighed, fluttering his eyes shut as he gripped your hand and swept a kiss over your fingers. His brow furrowed, and his hand started to shake slightly. Your heart stopped when he slowly lifted his eyes to meet yours. The emotion in his gaze was raw. Sharp. It cut you to your very core. 

"Nic, what's wrong? You're starting to scare me," you said, trying to control the hitch in your breath. "I..." he started, searching your face as he struggled to put his thoughts together. Holding his gaze, you waited patiently. Watching, as several shades of emotion shifted in his eyes. Finally, his thoughts seemed to click into place. "You're important to me," he stated, focusing on your face for your response. You schooled your expression into the perfect example of patient encouragement, hoping he would continue. To your delight, he was feeling chatty. "I'm...I don't get close....once you're happy...it can be taken from you," he paused again, and you quietly held your breath. "But...I'm selfish." 

"Why are you selfish?" you asked quietly, your chest suddenly feeling tight. The intensity in his gaze filled your body with a nervous energy that you couldn't quite contain. "Because every time I leave you, there's an emptiness in my gut. And I want to run back to where you are. But...I don't deserve that...don't deserve you." His words threw a stunned expression across your face, and you vaguely registered the wetness running down your cheeks. "Nicolas," you paused for a moment as Nico wiped your face dry, "You dumbass." 

He couldn't hide his astonishment, physically recoiling a bit. The confusion in his eyes was obvious. You smiled tenderly as you curled your fingers around his hand. "You deserve to be happy. You're always making sure everyone else is safe and taken care of...it's okay to choose yourself, y'know?" He stared at you for a long moment, blinking in disbelief. "I don't...understand you. The shit I've done...what I _am_...I-" you gently placed your fingertips on his lips, halting his words. His eyes widened, and he waited somewhat impatiently while your hand slipped to the back of his neck. "Don't ever apologize for what, _who_ , you are."

Once again, his surprise was evident, and his brows furrowed as he focused on your soft lips when you continued. "Your past does not define you. It does not decide who you are and what you deserve. Only _you_ can make that choice." You smiled, warmth spreading across your face. "And I'll be here. Whether you think you deserve me or not....Nic, I'll be here." You gave him a moment to let your words sink in completely, enjoying the way his expression shifted from surprise, to relief, and finally to a deep appreciation. The edges of his vision swam as he rubbed at his eyes, the backs of his hands coming away damp.

Nicolas responded by burying his face against your neck, sweeping adoring kisses across your skin as he moved. When his lips found yours, the heavy sigh you both exhaled flooded your body with a comforting warmth. The kiss was affectionate, full of an emotion that had been only partially there beforehand: love. Pure, unadulterated _love_. It was overwhelming, and quickly stole your breath. Reluctantly, you broke your lips from his, resting your foreheads together. Your gazes met, and matching smiles spread across both of your faces. A thought flashed through your mind, and you knew you had to tell him before the moment passed.

As you opened your mouth to tell him, a loud knock on the door interrupted the tender mood. Not caring if the person outside heard, you groaned loudly as you called out to them. "It's just me, (Y/N)," you recognized Worick's lethally cheery voice, "I'd _hate_ to disturb you lovebirds, but I need Nic." Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you quickly gestured to Nicolas before extricating yourself from his embrace. He grumbled his discontent, but sat upright, making a show of stretching his muscles. You shuffled across the floor, shoving the chair out of the way and throwing the door open. 

Worick had the decency to look remorseful for having to intrude. He couldn't help but flick his gaze over your shoulder when he noticed a shirtless Nic still tangled in your blankets. His smirk was instantaneous, and he gave you a knowing look, waggling his eyebrows. You wanted to smack that smug expression off his face, but somehow managed to rein in your compulsion. However, when he leaned in and whispered in your ear, "If I knew what you two had been up to, I wouldn't have bothered ya," you nearly repealed your restraint. 

Instead, you opted to roll your eyes once more, turning on your heel to stalk towards your chest of drawers. Worick cackled, the flush creeping up your neck painfully obvious. Nicolas watched you with interest as you busied yourself with finding a change of clothes. He cast his eyes toward Worick, a question plain in his expression. <What did you say to her?> he gestured at his partner, the blond grinning as he shut the door behind him. <I don't know what you mean, partner. I didn't say a _thing_ ,> Worick replied while trying, and failing miserably, to hold back his mirthful smirk. <Yeah, like I believe _that_. Spill it, dumbass,> he stated, glaring at the man. His restraint crumbled, and he started sniggering once more. Nic narrowed his eyes, waiting for his partner's response. 

"I _may have_ insinuated that the two of you have been getting busy underneath the sheets all. Night. Long," Worick finally said, his statement making you freeze in the middle of your movements. You slowly turned your head to level a murderous glare at the blond, who simply grinned at you in return. "You're a fuckin' prick, Worick. You know that?" you barked, throwing a handful of shirts at him. He dodged them, his laughter bouncing off the walls in the small room. <I second that,> Nic gestured from his place at the edge of your bed. "Anyway, I need to steal away our boy, Nic, here once again. Duty calls 'n' all that," Worick stated, keeping his tone light.

You sighed, nodding solemnly. Knowing this would have happened sooner or later, you placed your selected clothing on top of the dresser and approached the pair. Nic, who had already slipped back into his shoes, was in the process of fastening the last button on his shirt. You slid a quick gaze over his frame, mentally recording the image for a later time. Worick caught the action, but for once, chose not to comment. Nicolas threaded his sword through his belt and gave Worick a pointed look. The blond nodded, and turned his attention towards you. 

"Well, (Y/N), we'll be seeing each other in a few weeks' time. Until then, take care of yourself, got it?" the man said, the intense look in his eye prompting to assure him you would do just that. Regarding you with one last smile, he left to wait for his partner in the hallway. This time, you were the first to wrap your arms around Nic. He quickly returned the embrace, burying his face in your messy hair. Letting himself get lost in the moment, he inhaled your scent deeply, committing it to memory. Each time the two of you went your separate ways, it always felt like the last time you'd see one another. And some small part of you knew that someday, it might actually be for good. 

But you threw caution to the wind, and drew back so you could see his face. Lingering behind his regret at having to leave you once more, was a glimmer you recognized. The same light shone in your eyes as you traced your gaze over his features. It spurred you to let the words fall, "Come back to me in one piece, Nicolas Brown." His smirk made your stomach flip, and he pressed his lips to yours briefly. When he pulled back, he couldn't help his response:

"Yeah, roger that."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we made it through that last chapter in one piece...Only a few left!
> 
> Thank you for reading!!
> 
>  
> 
> All characters related to Gangsta belong to Kohske.

A few days after Nico and Worick left Bastard, you had begun to feel extremely antsy. You were no longer allowed to go to Theo's for your treatments. Instead, they had insisted the good doctor bring his treatments to you. Naturally, this frustrated you to no end. But still, you understood the reasoning behind the tight restrictions. However, the need to leave the club, even for just a minute, overwhelmed you so wholly that you considered sneaking out more than half a dozen times. Each time you tried peeking your head out the door to scan the hallway, you found either Doug, the latest addition to your guard detail, or Galahad stationed outside. The former always regarded you with an expression of casual boredom, while the latter gave you a friendly smile that masked a thinly veiled warning to 'get your ass back inside and stay there, or so help me _God_ , I will _tie you to a fucking chair_ '. The deep chuckle Gal let out when you groaned in frustration utterly vexing. _If I don't get out of here soon, I'm going to lose my ever-loving mind. I mean, I know I'm under protection. But, damn. Sure know how to make a girl feel trapped._

Three. _Three_ weeks. Three, agonizingly _long_ , weeks passed before you _finally_ convinced Loretta to let you get out of Bastard for a short while. "I still don't think its a great idea, (Y/N). But I agree that you _have_ been kept inside for quite a long time. And I understand you may be going a little stir-crazy," she had began rubbing her temples as though she was, at that very moment, developing a headache. "Have Asher and Doug escort me. Between the two of them, I'll have more security than I could possibly need. Any more than that, and we'll draw too much attention," you kept your tone even, nearly tasting success. Her long, drawn-out sigh that you'd come to recognize as reluctant agreement, filled your body with a buzz of excitement. "Very well. But ONLY for a couple hours, and I _cannot_ stress enough that you are to Stay. Out. Of. Trouble. I need you to remain uninjured for the party in a couple weeks," the young family head stated, leveling her sternest gaze on you.

"I understand, ma'am," you replied, placing one hand over your heart and raising the other in a mock scout pledge. "I solemnly swear to keep my sweet ass in one piece." An outburst of snickering behind you drew both your and Loretta's attention. A mop of brown dreadlocks protruding from underneath a large hood shook from the weight of his restrained laughter. "Doug, if you're quite finished, will you _please_ go get ready for tonight?" The young Twilight wiped his eyes dry and nodded, his retreating chuckles bouncing off the hallway walls as he departed. Returning your focus to the young woman in front of you, you couldn't help but notice exhaustion drawing a tightness about her eyes.

"Miss Cristiano, excuse me. But...when was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" you inquired gently. Your question didn't seem to faze her, and you waited patiently for her answer. She shrugged off her business-like facade for a moment and lifted her tired gaze to meet yours. With all the wisdom of a girl forced to become a woman far too early, she replied, "You know, I don't think I've _ever_ had a full night of rest." Her weary smile almost more than you could bear. For a split second, you wondered if someday, she might be able to. However, the moment soon passed, and her face returned to her usual expression of confident control.

"Doug and Asher will escort you tonight. I still need to brief Asher, but Doug is up-to-date with the info he needs to know. If, for _whatever reason_ , a situation should arise where you need to send one of them back, you are to tell them _exactly_ where you will be. Is that clear?" Her intense gaze sent a shiver of intimidation down your spine and you nodded almost out of reflex. "Good, then I suggest you go get ready as well." With a wave of her hand, she dismissed you. Turning sharply on your heel, you held in your excitement until you made it back to your room. You pumped your fist while letting out a soft whoop of victory. The buzzing in your chest seemed to intensify as you prepared for the evening.

* * *

 

Outside for the first time in what seemed like ages, you strolled leisurely along the street. Asher trailed behind you, letting you have your freedom while still keeping an eye out for trouble. Doug had elected to stay to the rooftops; his speed and agility would work best if he could attack from above. Trying your best to ignore the distinct feeling of being babysat, you stretched your arms above you. Inhaling deeply, the cool night air sank comfortably into your lungs, spilling contentment through your body. The full moon cast it's pale glow on the streets below. The stars sparkled against the dark backdrop, reminding you of a distant firefly-soaked field you'd once witnessed. You smiled, a shred of peace caressing your weary soul.

"You know, if you keep staring at the sky with such a goofy expression, I think I'm gonna be sick," Doug's voiced trailed down from the building next to you. Quickly hiding the touch of annoyance, you shot a convincing smile at him. "If it's _that_ grotesque, I wouldn't recommend you look in a mirror for a while. You might make yourself faint," you retorted, smirking when he gaped at you. "Damn, girl. I was just playin'...why you gotta get so _personal_??" he tried to fake the hurt tone in his voice, but you could see the wisp of a grin underneath his grimace.

Asher chuckled to himself behind you, and Doug pounced on the chance to throw a comment his way, "Hey. _Ass-her_. Don't think I forgot about you. Did the fire department need a new mascot? Or are you just a fan of dyeing your hair a shade of red that could make the primary color jealous?" You snorted, hiding your mouth with your hand as you turned to face the man in question. A calm, collected expression barely hid the mild frustration threatening to spill out. "At least _I_ do not require someone of the proper... _appearance_...to procure my alcohol. When was the last time you had to beg Galahad to buy you a beer?" the red-head threw the statement towards the young man above him.

The undignified scoff that left Doug's mouth nearly made you fall over with the weight of your laughter. "You're both assholes, y'know that?" he barked while he leapt to the next building to nurse his bruised pride. "Well it's not like he's _wrong_ ," you said, laughing. Asher let a rare grin slip, nodding his head in agreement. Continuing down the street, you once more let yourself enjoy this momentary freedom, despite the accompanying chaperones. Taking another deep breath, you stopped dead in your tracks when a faint scent wafted into your nose. "(Y/N)?" You heard Asher stop behind you, and you turned to look at him. He regarded you with an odd expression, tilting his head to the side. "What is the matter?" he asked you, suddenly suspicious.

"There's...a fire. It's coming from...the north," you said, turning in that direction. _I wonder if it's nearby...I need to get up higher._ Your eyes darted around you, searching for a possible way to the rooftops. Your gaze settled on the fire ladder bolted to a building just down the street. "Hey, I'm gonna go up top with Doug. Just for a sec. Somethin's bugging me," you assured your escort that you would return quickly. "Are you certain you do not want me to accompany you?" He asked, matching your hurried pace to the fire escape. Shaking your head, you quickly gave the ladder a once-over, deeming it safe enough to use. "Like I said, should only take a minute," you said, taking a few steps backwards.

The bottom half of the fire ladder retracted into the top half when not in use, so the last rung stood roughly 8 or 9 feet from the ground. You double-checked the distance visually, breathing sharply before you gave yourself a short running start. Launching yourself towards the ladder, you landed neatly on the railing. Rapidly climbing the stairs, you jumped onto the roof. Doug waited for you, an impressed expression passing over his face for a moment. "Did you smell it, too?" the Twilight asked you, a look of unease clouding his face. You nodded in reply, sweeping your gaze behind you for a moment, just to be safe.

Turning once more to the north, you narrowed your eyes, searching for a sign. _Why am I getting such a bad feeling about this?_ You spotted the thick pillar of smoke stretching upwards into the night sky. Rather amazed with yourself for not noticing it sooner, your blood froze as you pinpointed the source. _That's way too close to...No...Please no._ "Ash, I gotta go!" You shouted down to him, "Tell Marco and Gal we're in District 9! 5 blocks southwest of the police station!" You didn't bother waiting for him to respond as you bolted, Doug hot on your heels. In your haste, you missed the _highly_ uncharacteristic expression of crazed delight that settled on the man's face as he flipped his phone out.

You hurled yourself between rooftops, the smell of smoke hanging heavy in the air. The scent grew stronger the faster you ran. Panic clutched tightly to your chest as you prayed over and over that your instinct was wrong. To his credit, Doug was indeed keeping up with you, but it was clear he was struggling slightly. Soon, a haze began to block out the moonlight. You came to a screeching halt, having reached the source. The dark-skinned Twilight nearly crashed into your back as he tried to stop himself as well. He opened his mouth to bitch at you, but you cut him off with a sharp wave of your hand, directing his gaze to what lay before the both of you.  
Your stomach sank to the deepest depth of your being as you were met with the sight of Blue King engulfed in flames. A crowd had gathered in the street below, watching in collective, abject horror as the building burned. Many murmured among themselves, some sobbed, loudly. Quietly dropping to the ground, you both entered the fray. You scanned the faces, searching desperately for anyone you recognized.

Cautiously approaching a young woman who seemed awfully familiar, you crouched down to her level. Her eyes were vacant and she looked as though she was covered in ash. You shook her slightly, waiting for the fog to clear from her gaze. She stared at you, tears filling her eyes. "What happened?" you asked quietly. Her voice shook as she did her best to relay the horrifying tale to you, "This...this _man_...came in. Alone. He..he had a briefcase, I think, I don't really remember. Just...sat down at a table. Didn't order anything...just a glass of water." She had to stop and take a steadying breath. You held her hand, giving her a reassuring smile. "All of a sudden, he got up to use the restroom. He didn't take his briefcase with him, though. After a while, he came out, and left the restaurant. Quick as he could. We all just kind of looked at each other and shrugged. No one thought much of it."

Your breath caught in your throat as she continued, "Until the bomb went off." Fresh tears flowed freely down her face, making tracks on her ashy skin. "Everyone panicked, started running in every direction. The smoke was so thick, we couldn't see anything...M-My husband...he's still in there. I..I don't know how many of the others...or the staff. Oh, god...p-please...someone needs to help th-." Her trembling voice was suddenly cut off by another small explosion in a deeper part of the structure. As if on cue, several blood-curdling screams sounded out from within the burning building. You swiveled your head in a hurry, finding Doug standing a few feet behind you. He stared at the building in disbelief. "Doug!" his gaze shot over to meet your resolute stare, "We have to help them."

He steeled himself as he grimaced, nodding. "Yeah, what the hell. Let's go." You released the woman's hand, assuring her you would try to find whoever was still alive. She nodded, whispering for you to be careful. You approached the building, Doug at your side. Your mind raced as adrenaline began pulsing through your veins. "I have an idea," you said suddenly, running into the side alley. He followed behind as you turned the outdoor faucet on, full-blast. The bucket below filled rapidly, and once it was full enough, you dumped the entire contents on yourself.

"What, _in the actual fuck_ , are you doing?" the young man blurted out, regarding your drenched form with a raised brow and doubtful expression. "It'll take longer for the flames to burn us if we're sopping wet," you stated, thrusting the refilled bucket at him, "Your turn." He stared at you for a long moment, before shrugging and pouring it on himself. The shriek he let out when the icy water soaked him to the bone would have been funnier if it weren't for the situation. "Okay. Time to move."

* * *

 

Twenty-five minutes later, the people you could find had been dragged out to the street. The survivors were reunited with their loved ones, and the victims had been covered with whatever was handy. Of the twenty or so people that had been inside, only a handful were unaccounted for. The fire department had _finally_ decided to show up, and were currently working to put out the blaze. You and Doug were panting heavily, recovering outside the restaurant. He was flat out on the ground, sucking as much clean air into his lungs as he could. "I don't think I've ever run that hard in my _life_ ," he croaked, peering at you upside-down. "You did good, Doug. Thanks," you replied, earning yourself a cock-eyed grin.

"Are you two _completely insane_?!" _Oh no, I recognize that tone._ "Oh, uh, hey, Chad," Doug shot upright, trying to wipe his face clean of soot; succeeding only in smearing it further across his skin. "Don't you ' _Hey, Chad_ ' me. You could have gotten yourself killed! You had no business going in there, do you hear me?" Inspector Adkins pointed his finger viciously at the young Twilight, who tried to shrink into his hoodie.

"Hey, don't blame it on him. He was following me," you piped up, puffing out your chest. The graying officer turned his anger, and his finger, towards you. "Oh, how wonderful. Who the hell let you outside, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be with the Cristiano's?" His comment set your temper ablaze. "Well ex-fucking-cuse me, _Officer_. But there are living people _who would be dead right now_ , if not for us. So you can lose the attitude and focus your attention on the ones who _really_ need it," you stood your ground, crossing your arms defiantly. The man threw his hands up in the air and stalked off towards the crowd, muttering something along the lines of 'those damn Handymen, ruinin' every good-mannered kid left.' His harried partner gave an apologetic smile behind the older man's back, quickly trailing after him.

"I've never seen anyone besides the Benriya boys mouth off to him like that," Marco's voice drew your attention to your left. His surprised expression enough to prompt a noise of agreement from the young man laying near you. "Yeah, she's bad _ass_ ," he agreed, nodding fervently. You laughed, shaking your head at their antics. "If you're ready, we have a car waiting down the block." Your old friend extended his hand toward you, and you accepted. He pulled you to your feet with ease, and you yanked Doug up quickly thereafter. "Right, let's get the two of you back. She won't admit it, but Miss Cristiano is worried about both of you."

* * *

 

Upon your return to Bastard, you'd gotten a fairly mild chastising, all things considered, before being sent off to get some rest. Marco had escorted you to your room, mostly to make sure you were actually okay. He'd mumbled quietly, "Nico and Worick will never let me hear the end of it if something serious happens to you." You rolled your eyes, but were mentally grateful that your friend still had your back after all this time. It took no time to reach your room, and you paused outside your door for a beat. Marco regarded you with a concerned expression, and you turned to him.

The pained look on your face deepened the worry lines at the corner of his eyes. "There's something on your mind." It was more of a statement than a question. "I know we weren't able to save everyone...could you...find out the names of anyone killed in the fire?" you asked after a long moment. His gaze softened and he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Of course, (Y/N)." You gave a tight smile in response before entering your room.

Closing the door behind you quietly, you leaned your back against it. Flashes of Blue King in flames tore across your vision, and you slid down to the floor. _Tony...Aron...I'm so, so sorry._ Catching your head in your hands, you fisted your hair between your fingers. Your body trembled slightly, and you focused on controlling your breathing. Tears welled at the edges of your eyes, and you searched the room for something to wipe your face with. Finding nothing that you wouldn't ruin, you sighed and scraped yourself from the ground. _Guess there's no better time to take a shower._ Gathering your bath items, you made your way to the bath house.

A short while later, after you'd washed away the grime caking your skin, you shuffled underneath the blankets. Laying your head on the pillow, you stared up at the ceiling. Sleep was far off; your mind much too full for rest. It was obvious to you that the bombing of Blue King was your father's doing. _That shriveled old bastard is moving in fast, isn't he? What's his next play?_ You knew he had done it to force your hand, or simply to spite you. Closing your eyes bitterly, you groaned in frustration. _If he tries to pull the same shit here, he's gonna have a rude awakening._ For quite a while longer, you laid in bed, brooding, until sleep finally claimed you.

The next morning, you woke slowly, your muscles protesting any movement. You stared at the ceiling for several minutes, trying to decide if you wanted to go to breakfast, or fall back asleep for a couple hours. Just as you were about to roll back over and shut your eyes, your stomach let out a loud growl. _Guess it's food, then. Yipee._ Flinging the covers off in frustration, you accidentally caught your feet as you rolled. Instead of landing gracefully on your feet, you fell face-first to the floor, yelping in pain. Laying on the floor for a moment, you groaned, trying to work up the motivation to move again. _Well **this** day is starting off great._

A soft knock on your door made you groan again, this time in annoyance. "Yeah, just give me a sec," you called out, wrestling yourself free of the blankets. Rubbing your forehead gingerly, you cracked the door open just enough to see who was outside. Marco's gentle smile helped to lessen your grouchy mood, as did the steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "Morning, grumpy," he teased, handing you the cup as he sidled into your room, "You know, I think you're even less of a morning person than Nicolas." Your snort widened his smile, and he took a seat in the only chair in the room. Gently plopping down on the edge of your bed, you methodically blew cool air over the cup before carefully taking a sip. The warm liquid slid down your throat, spreading a comfortable heat throughout your body.

Sighing in relief, you felt your muscles finally relax. Returning your attention to your friend, you took another sip before you spoke, "So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?" His expression darkened just enough to signal he had some unpleasant news, and your stomach clenched apprehensively. "Ah, I see. Well lay it on me, then," you stated, setting your cup on the bedside table. "You asked me last night, to find the victims of the fire. There were five in total," he paused as he pulled a small slip of paper from his pocket.

Clearing his throat, he focused on the names Chad had quickly scrawled down for him. "Kaiden and Rhian Tang, Twilights...12 years old. Josie Ellison, Normal, 34 years old....grade school teacher. James Farrell, Twilight, 34 years old... And...," he paused again, looking up at you for a moment, seeming to struggle with the last name, "Aronas Novak, Normal, 37 years old...senior chef, and co-owner of Blue King." "No...," you whispered, your lips parting slightly, as tears welled in your eyes. A tightness gripped your chest and you felt sobs choking your throat. "Please tell me you're joking, Marco," you pleaded, fisting at the material of your shirt. He couldn't hide the deep sadness in his eyes, as he rose from the chair and took a seat beside you.

"I wish I was," he said, putting a comforting arm around your trembling shoulders, "Chad told me it was hardest to identify him, because he suffered such severe burns. According to eyewitnesses, he was the first to start herding everyone outside. They found him near the twins, trying to shield them with his body." You let out a pained laugh. _That's just the type of thing he'd do, too._ "Of course he was," you mumbled, sobs choking off any further words you might have offered. Marco softly patted your shoulder as you mourned for your friend.

Soon, your tears had dried and you could breathe easier by a measure. The tightness in your chest had yet to fade, but you had a feeling it would take some time. In the short four months you'd worked at Blue King, the staff there had welcomed you without question. More than being simply coworkers, they had become your surrogate family. So the loss of a member of this family was as painful as losing a blood relative. _I need to go see Tony at some point...Aron was all he had...maybe once all of this is over. If I make it that long..._

"I think...you should come have breakfast with us. I don't want you to be alone while you...mourn...please?" he was cautious with his question, reassuringly squeezing your shoulder. You took a moment to think it over, before nodding. "Great, I'll step outside to let you get changed," he stated, smiling warmly at you. Managing to form something resembling a smile, you waited until the door softly clicked shut behind him. You pushed yourself off the bed with great effort, the weight of your loss physically bearing down on you.

Digging through your dresser, you pulled out the comfiest sweater you owned. Rich, thick wool hugged your body with fuzzy comfort. The sleeves were far too long, but you didn't really care. It was your favorite, a present from your favorite boys. You paused, rubbing the fabric between your fingers as you fondly recalled the memory.

You'd returned to your room one day to find a carefully wrapped package sitting in the middle of your bed. A handwritten note sat atop the box, and you picked it up out of curiosity.

_'In case you get cold without us there to warm you up...'_

_-Worick & Nicolas_

You had shaken your head in exasperation, knowing the sly comment had Worick written all over it. A small arrow in the bottom corner of the page had caught your attention, instructing you to turn the page over. Once you had, your chest swelled as you read the slightly shaky handwriting.

_'Don't get sick, woman.'_

_-Nic_

_'P.S.- Worick doesn't get to warm you up if you do.'_

A tender smile touched your face as you returned to the present moment. Quickly jumping into a pair of stretchy leggings, you slipped on a pair of flats and took a second to pinch some life back into your cheeks. Plastering a smile onto your face, you joined Marco in the hallway. He gave you an odd look as he noted your choice of dress, but masked it a second later. "Ready?" he asked, smiling once you nodded. He offered his arm in a comforting, casual manner, and you happily accepted.

* * *

 

The night of the big "party" at Bastard had finally arrived, and you were overflowing with nervous excitement. From your place behind the bar, you could easily peer out across the moderately-sized crowd. Most clustered together around the tall tables littering the space, but many had also taken seats on the booths spread out along the walls. The casual lighting reflected softly off the tags worn by most everyone in the room, save for a few of the staff. Galahad was across the room, chatting quite animatedly with a small group of men and women. Comfortable smiles plastered on their faces were punctuated by occasional bouts of laughter as the large Twilight regaled them with some story or another. Marco and Miss Cristiano were directing the periodic influx of slightly disheveled individuals as they were ushered into the club by the doormen.

Asher had elected to stand guard just inside the front door, acting as a secondary measure of security in addition to the men stationed outside. Your role for the night was to keep a lookout for anyone that seemed suspicious. You were only to assist Marco and Gal in the event one or both of them was incapacitated. The grueling training regimen the pair devised for you had been working excellently, and they were positive that you would be of sufficient use in the event of trouble. You were willing to wager you'd regained the majority of your previous strength and dexterity, but this could be the perfect opportunity to test the theory.

Roughly a half hour later, there was a small commotion by the door, and a flash of familiar ash blond caught your eye. You could see Loretta stomping towards the entrance, annoyance plain on her expression. Galahad trailed behind, shooting you a toothy grin. Worick approached her casually, deflecting her disappointment by producing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. She accepted them, shoulders slumping in begrudging forgiveness. A tall woman with long, dark brown hair and a lovely olive complexion stood just behind Worick. _That must be Alex. Worick wasn't kidding when he said the girl's stacked._ The tight dress stretched over her frame barely covered her full bosom. You could almost feel Loretta's distress as the small, rather flat, young lady exclaimed in frustration.

Gal was quick in his patient consoling of the woman. You noticed Marco interject, quietly explaining something before taking the girl's hand and introducing himself. Not wanting to be left out, Gal hurried to make introductions as well, only to be drawn in by the woman's curves himself. Loretta took out her disgust on the large man, yanking his hair harshly and dealing several sharp kicks to the backs of his legs. Worick must have made a comment to Galahad that really ticked off the curvy brunette, because she smacked him hard across the face in retaliation. Huffing in annoyance, she traipsed over to the bar, slumping into a seat with a loud sigh.

"What's your poison, hon?" you chirped, regarding her with a friendly smile. Her enchanting blue orbs fell on you, returning your smile with one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I think champagne would taste _great_ right about now," she replied, scanning over you briefly. Pouring her drink, you slid the slender glass across the bar-top, watching her fingers carefully pluck it from yours. Swirling the liquid gently, she looked as though she wanted to say something. The silence dragged on for a few moments, until you couldn't contain yourself any longer.

"Alex, right?" you said, her head snapping up in surprise. _Bingo._ She nodded slowly, unease creeping into her gaze. "How'd you know?" Her voice betrayed her nerves, and you felt compassion for this woman. "Worick talks about you, a lot. Between the curves and the way you carry yourself, I just put two and two together," you stated, taking a sip of water from your cup under the counter. You didn't fail to notice the blush creeping up her neck as you continued, "Although you're a little bit taller than he said. Must think he has to... _compensate_...for something." The woman snorted, a genuine smile spreading across her face that she was quick to hide behind her hand. You grinned, and she visibly relaxed.

"So how do you know Worick?" She asked, taking a sip of her drink. "Oh. Well, until recently, I used to be their neighbor," you replied, stepping down the bar a few paces and beginning to clean a stack of dirty glasses. Another look of surprise flashed across her face, and her gaze paused at the scar on your cheek. "Wait...you were their...a-are you...(Y/N)?" she inquired, blinking at you owlishly. "Yup! Sure am," you extended your hand, giving hers a quick shake, "(Y/F/N), (Y/L/N). It's nice to finally meet you." She smiled, looking at her glass thoughtfully before tapping a nail on the rim. Noticing her glass was empty, you offered her a refill, which she accepted with another soft smile.

"Seeing as how I can't find Worick anywhere, I'm going to go find someplace a little quieter. Come find me if you get a break?" Alex slid off her seat, giving you a hopeful look. "You got it, Aly. Cool if I call you that?" you responded, beaming when she nodded. After she disappeared into the crowd, you felt a presence draw near to you. Turning your head to the side, you spotted Asher, speaking in hushed tones with a man you didn't recognize. Giving him a nod of acknowledgement, you returned to your duties; a fresh wave of thirsty patrons had approached the bar.

While you remained busy for some time, the gentle music flowing through the room wasn't quite enough to mask the distant sound of gunshots from your sharp hearing. Flicking your gaze around the space, your eyes landed on an open window on the balcony. Alex had claimed the window seat and jolted when she also, presumably, picked up on the sound. Galahad was lingering nearby, and stopped her from alerting Loretta. You vaguely paid attention as he explained what was going on to her.

Marco and Gal had let you in on the plan for Alex before she'd arrived with Worick, and you wished you would have been able to give her a clue. After you'd deftly prepared drinks and passed them to the appropriate patrons, you dried your hands and tidied up a bit. Once that task was finished, you turned your attention once more to the balcony. Just in time, as Galahad had squeezed Alex against his side and was announcing her as Bastard's new diva. You chuckled at her squeak of embarrassment, and smiled, knowing Worick wouldn't have suggested it if she wasn't worth the time.

The gentle din of the room quieted down as Alex approached the stage. Even from across the club, you could see her hands nervously wringing together. The main lights faded and a single spotlight flicked on, illuminating her form. Galahad struck the first few chords of a song you swore you knew; Alex took a calming breath. The accompaniment continued, and after a few beats, she began to sing. Rich, velvety tones flowed through the speakers, filling the room with her tender voice. You could almost feel the entire crowd sigh in contentment, and it was easy to see why. She had real talent, and your chest swelled in awe of the woman.

As Gal played the last notes of the song, the room erupted; she had received a standing ovation. Your loud cheers melded flawlessly with the chorus of hoots and hollers. She smiled in appreciation, shifting shyly in her spot. Once the noise had died down, you spied her taking a seat on the edge of the stage, arms struggling to hold the large bouquet of flowers she'd received. Before your attention was drawn away again, you saw Loretta approaching the woman.

When you had a chance to cast your gaze over the crowd once more, the unfamiliar man, that you'd seen with Asher earlier, waited with a briefcase at his side. Miss Cristiano made her way to him, slipping into her business mode. You focused on his face, trying to read through the friendly expression he wore. The sharp smell of blood jarred with the surrounding scents of alcohol and sweat, and you narrowed your eyes at the stranger. A hint of loathing crept from behind his masked expression, and dread twisted your gut. The same moment you signaled to Galahad that something wasn't right, a Twilight gentleman, that had entered the club earlier in the night, leapt from his seat. The mysterious stranger was walking away from him, and the man shook with nervous, panicked energy.

His feverish eyes were focused on Loretta, and with pained hesitation, he lunged towards her. An unfortunate employee was caught in the crossfire, and you became aware of the large knife in his hand as he stabbed the poor bastard. Another employee berated the crazed man, only to have his hand sliced off in a blinding rage. As he shot towards Miss Cristiano, knife extended in her direction, he was stopped by Galahad. The large man caught the blade, snapped it in half, and landed a solid blow to the man's face. Several more Twilights attempted to ambush the towering man, only to be thrown away by Marco's garrote wires. You rushed from behind the bar, flinging your apron onto the back counter hastily. Coming to stand beside Gal, you watched in awe as Loretta confronted the Twilight who had started the whole thing.

The man was shivering and refused to answer her, instead making a run for it. However, he didn't get far. A small boy dropped from the balcony railing, slicing the man clean in half. He only stopped long enough to pluck the man's tags from midair. As the body fell to the floor, the frightened guests lost their nerve. Everyone ran for the door in a blind panic, few escaping the young boy's path of carnage. In the chaos, someone managed to bump into Loretta hard enough that she lost her balance. Alex rushed to her aid, swiftly pushing the girl out of the way of some jagged shards of glass jutting up from the floor. You silently thanked the woman, and moved to assist Marco in getting the girls to safety.

Galahad engaged the young boy, keeping him too occupied to go after more of the fleeing patrons. Despite his incredible strength, the boy was actually keeping up with the large man. Enough so, that Gal was knocked down into a defensive position. Before the child could land a lethal blow, he was thrown around the room by Marco's wires. The man snagged the stolen tags, stuffing them in his pocket quickly. Gal breathed out a sigh of relief, chastising him for taking so long. The young boy yelled something about 'better give those back, I stole 'em fair and square.' Marco scoffed, retorting coldly, "What happens if I don't, gonna cry?"

The boy lunged at Gal, flipping away effortlessly and landing on the bar-top. When the men once more refused his demand on the stolen tags, he again leapt at Galahad, this time, sending the man flying. Marco attempted to wrap the boy up in his wires, but the little runt evaded them. You stood by, patiently waiting for an opening. Gal attacked the kid, giving Marco a signal you nearly missed. As the child avoided the large man's attack, he was too slow to miss Marco's wires trapping him, and sending him crashing to the floor. "Wow, you guys sure work well together," you commented, slipping your blades back into their holsters. "Guess you didn't need my help after all," you laughed, slapping Gal on the back. "If you would have been fighting him instead of me, I'm sure it wouldn't have taken you quite as long," he bellowed, chuckling loudly. "Alright you two, enough chit-chat. Gal, go the store room and grab as many Downers as you can find."

"Are you done playing, Mikhail?" A woman's voice came from above and you shot your gaze towards the sound. Short, pale blonde hair framed a slender face, nearly obscuring her emotionless blue eyes from sight. She balanced neatly on the railing, casually tucking multiple blood-stained tags into a small pouch on her belt. A slender sword dangled elegantly from one hand, dripping crimson onto the floor below. The boy grinned brightly, tapping his feet playfully as he addressed the woman. "Hey, I found some guys that've got a lotta fight in 'em. But then they took my tag collection and tied me up like this...I need your help, Erica. Pleeeease?" Her cold eyes fell on the three of you, and she flatly agreed, "Very well."

Calmly stepping off the railing, she dropped to the floor, quickly charging Marco and slicing through his wires in a matter of moments. You leapt to his aide, only to have Galahad flung at you when the boy kicked him hard enough to send the large man flying. You looked up to see the blonde woman slice a chain off of Marco's neck, and he dove to catch it. She dealt a harsh blow to his side, the man falling to the floor in sharp pain. Mikhail picked it up, inspecting it and realizing it's owner was only a Normal. Marco used what was left of his wires to snatch the ring from the boy, cutting his fingers and spilling a few drops of blood onto the child's shirt. This angered him, and he picked up a broken bottle, clearly meaning to kill the man with it. Shots rang out as bullets were hurled at the boy, only to be deftly blocked by the woman's sword.

In the midst of trying to pull yourself from under the incredibly _heavy_ Twilight, you spotted Loretta aiming a pistol at Erica. "If you so much as look at that man again, I'll blow your head off!" The fierce determination in her eyes was enough to shake you from your haze. "Boss, no! Get out of here, now!" Marco implored her to flee, but Erica launched herself toward the balcony, his pleas dying on his tongue. She sliced Loretta's gun in half, moving to off the girl. Another volley of shots rang out, which the woman also deflected with frightening accuracy. Alex ran up from behind Loretta, placing herself between the girl and Erica. Firing the last few rounds, the gun clicked, signalling it was empty.

Dropping the now-useless weapon, she remained as Loretta's shield. Fear overtook her frame as Erica slowly approached her. Pointing her sword at the taller woman's throat, she moved to plunge it into her. Just before the tip of the blade touched Aly's skin, a figure crashed through the window, knocking the sword from the blonde's hand and dangling her over the balcony by the front of her shirt. You cried out in relief when you realized it was Nicolas. A deadly, excited grin plastered on his face, he held his blade against her throat, daring her to make a move. His smile faltered as a look of recognition replaced it.

The woman didn't allow him much time before she punched her palm at him, flipping down to the floor when Nicolas dodged the blow. Plucking her weapon from the ground, she was quick to launch at him, interspersing punches with slashes from her sword. He kept up as best he could, but it was clear he wasn't getting the upper hand. Galahad had finally regained consciousness and was calling out your exact thoughts, "This is nuts, man. Admit it! She's way too much for you to handle!" The Twilight in question simply grinned wildly in response, prompting a "Your funeral," from Gal.

Loretta directed the large man to assist her in dragging Marco from the room, and Alex followed. When the young woman turned to beckon you to come along as well, you shook your head. "I have to stay. He's gonna get himself killed if I don't," you stated, flicking your knives out and giving them a twirl. She smiled and nodded in understanding, "Don't die. That's an order." "Yes ma'am. You got it." With that you pushed the door shut, just as well, because Mikhail was flying towards you. "Hey! There's no running away!" Ducking, he slammed into the door above your head, denting it nearly in half. _Dammit, this kid's gotta be as strong as Gal! Fuck it, I can't allow this little shit to intimidate me._

You spun around, kicking him squarely in the gut. He flew backwards, catching himself and springing on his hands. Landing easily on the bar-top, he grinned. "You're really strong, lady! Are you a Twilight, too? I sure hope so, 'cause I wanna add _you_ to my collection!" _What the actual fuck? Is he serious?_ "You'll have to find out...for yourself!" You lunged at him with the last half of your statement, nicking the backs of his legs as he somersaulted over you. As the boy flew through the air, you cast your eyes to Nicolas for a moment. Only a few feet from you, Nicolas was fully engaged with Erica, and was beginning to lose his edge. _Shit, I have to keep this kid out of his hair._ His eyes flicked to you after he shoved the woman across the room.

"Erica, these guys aren't going down as easily as I thought they would. What should we do?" the child's voice was full of innocence, a stark contrast to his lethal skills. Nicolas back-stepped to you, and you both kept your guard up. Erica cast a bone-chilling stare in your direction, and without warning, flew towards you. Mikhail slammed into Nicolas, preventing him from blocking the blonde woman's attack. You swiftly deflected her slashes, managing to cut her sword's sheath from her side. It clattered to the ground and she let a barely audible grunt of annoyance fall from her mouth.

The woman and her companion seemed to have a telepathic connection, because they switched up their attack once more. Mikhail was soon throwing himself at you, and Erica had again engaged a rapidly tiring Nicolas. As you fended off the boy, you heard Nico grunt in pain. Thrusting your knives at Mikhail, you huffed in frustration when he caught a blade in each hand, barely stopping them from piercing his throat. Shooting a quick glance across the room, you saw Erica's sword protruding from Nico, and he cried out when she pulled the blade out. Groaning, he clutched his wound and you helplessly looked on as she moved to deliver a final blow. "Nicolas... _no_!"

Suddenly, Erica was slammed to the floor by a red-haired woman with a rather buxom figure who, seemingly, appeared out of thin air. Her dog tags bounced lightly against her chest, reflecting the soft light. You roughly kicked Mikhail in the stomach, shoving him away from you. Just in time, because several small knives found themselves at his feet, a warning: _Don't move_. "Damn, Ginger. Did you really have to run so fast, girl?" Doug's breathless voice appeared beside you. He was panting heavily, likely from having to chase after the spectacled woman, now pointing a gun at Mikhail. You took comfort in the sight of the young man, who was hovering his fingers over his tags. A/0 displayed proudly on his, S/5 barely legible on the redhead's. _S5, huh? Looks like we got a little powerhouse on our hands._

"Excellent timing, gang!" Worick's voice floated throughout the room, the man appearing next to Nicolas. He lit a cigarette and grinned at you. The blonde woman pinned to the floor suddenly produced a knife hidden in her sleeve, throwing off the red-head, Ginger, while slashing at her. In the blink of an eye, she delivered a harsh kick to Erica's stomach, sending the woman crashing through a row of tables. _Good thing she's on our side, she's fuckin' fast._ Mikhail stood patiently, knives at his feet, as he quietly spoke to Erica. "Their friends are from the Paulklee Guild. What do we do now, Erica?" The woman stood slowly, calmly wiping a bit of blood from her nose.

You made your way over to where Nicolas had propped himself against a column. Worick was chastising the shorter man for overdosing once again. As he tried to explain that he'd just bought the blond some time, as requested, Worick shouted, "Oh you gave me five minutes, big fuckin' deal! Doesn't change the fact that you're a goddamn junkie!" exasperated with his partner. Trying to hide a chuckle behind your hand, you stepped out from behind the blond. Nic cast his gaze on you, appreciation and gratitude settling on his face. <Idiot,> you signed to him after sheathing your blades with a flip of your wrists. <Just had to crash through the window and make a damn scene, didn't you?> Despite the pain he was surely in, Nicolas cracked a grin.

Worick made an irritated noise behind you, and you couldn't help the smile spreading over your face. "You two are made for each other, I swear," the blond commented, half to himself, but still loud enough for you to hear. Before you could respond, a tingle ran up the back of your neck. You whipped around, swiftly catching a knife, that had been flung in your direction, between your palms. Erica remained in a throwing posture, a small measure of surprise entering her lifeless gaze. Flicking the blade into the floor beside you, you stared her down, daring her to make a move, fingers poised above your own weapons. Out of options, and clearly outnumbered, she retreated to the balcony, joined quickly by Mikhail. She stared at you for a moment before the pair flew out the window, escaping by rooftop.  
Too exhausted to chase after them, you let a loud sigh fall from your lips. Turning back to your boys, you started when you noticed the matching looks of awe they wore. "And I thought Ginger was fast. Shit, girl," Doug commented, approaching the three of you. "You're an observant one," you stated, smirking at the young man, "Don't have many speedy suspects in the Guild?" "You know it. Besides Ginger, I'm the quickest one they got," he said proudly, puffing his chest up.

"Now Doug, don't get too full of yourself," Galahad appeared behind him, placing a large hand on the shorter man's shoulder. Doug grinned, shyly scratching his nose as he walked towards Ginger. Gal smiled, shaking his head as he turned towards you. "Thanks for your help tonight, (Y/N). Looks like all our hard work paid off," he grinned, leaning on Worick's shoulder. Smiling in return, you nodded. "Well I figured I'd make myself useful around here. Plus, I'm kinda attached to this selfish jackass," you gestured to the wounded man sitting on the floor, currently glaring daggers at you despite the grin on his face, "Thinks he can get away with stealing all the excitement." Worick barked out a laugh, offering a cigarette to the tall gentleman chuckling at his side.

Loretta, Alex, and Marco rejoined the group once they'd been informed the area was safe for the time being. Alex rushed over to you, catching you by surprise as she threw her arms around your neck. "I'm so glad you're okay, (Y/N)," she stated, tears streaming down her face. "I'm fine, Aly. We all are. Some more banged up than others," you paused, catching Nicolas' eye, "But we're good." The warm smile Nico wore filled you with a sense of comfort, and you pulled Alex off you gently. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, smiling softly.

"Though I think you should check on Worick, he might've pulled a muscle or something running over here," you said, a huge shit-eating grin plastered across your face. The man in question choked as he took a drag of his cigarette, coughing and flipping you off. Gal barely reined in his laughter, but Alex and Loretta couldn't help their fit of giggles. Doug snickered behind his hand, and Marco wore a lopsided smirk. A temporary peace settled over the group, until Loretta clapped her hands together, gathering everyone's attention. "I know tonight has been quite an ordeal, but we need to get our affairs in order. Marco, Gal, I'm leaving you two in charge. Marco has asked that I stay at Benriya while things get fixed up here," she paused, taking the time to look at each person in the room, "We were barely able to scrape by tonight. If we don't better prepare ourselves, next time...we might not be so lucky."

* * *

 

Across town, inside a dimly lit room, a man stared at a photo of (Y/N). She was smiling, walking down the street between two men. Carefully, he placed the picture on the table in front of him, where a series of similar photos laid. A shot of (Y/N) carrying a bag of groceries, a stoic, dark-haired man beside her. In another, she was being carried by the same dark-haired man from the other two shots. The figure stood, turning to the large map of Ergastulum plastered on the wall. Various marks colored the page and several photos were tacked around the border. Circling a small building in District 2, he stepped back.

In the blink of an eye, he pulled a knife from his belt and threw it towards the wall. The blade hit dead center of the mark he had just drawn. A sickening grin spread the man's features, and he began to laugh darkly.

"Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!" the man once more retrieved the picture of (Y/N) from the desk. Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he lit the edge of the photo, watching it slowly burn and turn to ash.

"Look upon thy death, dear daughter."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is nothing but unadulterated, tooth-rotting fluff. And trust me, we're gonna need it to get through the rest. So, enjoy the Connie/Marco feels! I'm a sucker for sleepy domestic fluff.
> 
> Thank you for reading!! *blows kisses*
> 
>  
> 
> All characters related to Gangsta belong to Kohske.

It always struck you as odd, how quickly things returned to normal after a disaster. On the surface, at the very least. Within just a few days, it was as if nothing had ever happened inside Bastard. If not for the faint scent of blood that lingered, and the various bumps, breaks, and bruises on the staff, any stranger would have been none the wiser. The Cristiano Family had been given a very stark wake-up call. After all, one never truly gets... _comfortable_ in Ergastulum. But it was now crystal clear someone had it out for Loretta. And wasn't afraid to prove it.

A couple weeks passed, and certain members of the Family were still reeling from the event. Try as they might to keep the darkened looks from clouding their faces, Galahad and Marco couldn't hide them from your ever-observant eyes. So you tried your best to anchor them in the present. Be it small things, like recruiting Doug to join you one slow night. The two of you spent the evening telling Gal dirty jokes, until he had tears streaming down his face and a permanent stitch in his side. Or something bigger, like insisting Marco introduce you to the mysterious woman he'd been dropping hints about for months, to which he happily agreed. The look of relief on his face was worth the headache of getting the go-ahead from Miss Cristiano.

The latter proved to be quite an interesting afternoon. Miss Cristiano had been generous enough to give you both the afternoon off, without much convincing needed. A pleasant surprise, to be sure. After taking a few precautions with you, the pair of you set out. Marco leisurely escorted you through quiet backstreets, slipping out of District 2 and into District 8 unnoticed. You both took the rare opportunity alone to finally catch up with one another, casual conversation passing back and forth. The exchange came as a welcome distraction for the both of you. It comforted you to know that your friend still trusted you, even after all this time.

Soon, your path took you past the alley that led straight to Benriya, and you couldn't help sparing a glance up at a certain window. A familiar broad set of shoulders caught your attention, and your steps faltered. Marco was quick to notice, and waited patiently for you, a fond smile on his features. _Damn, I've got it bad, don't I? Can't even see his face and I'm-_ your thoughts were cut off when Nicolas turned without warning. The breath caught in your throat as your eyes met through the open window, and you couldn't help but grin at the shocked look on his face. 

<Hey, handsome,> you signed to him after a moment, and his shock melted into that small, lopsided grin of his that made your heart flip. <Hey,> he replied, <Thought I smelled you.> You gawked for a beat before sticking your tongue out at him. <You implying I stink??> you retorted, flipping him a rude gesture, which earned you an even bigger grin. <Yeah, but I like your stink. What are you doing in District 8? Thought Cristiano had you on lock-down.>

Your face flushed in embarrassment at his first remark, but you quickly recovered as you gestured your answer, pulling Marco into view. <This idiot's been moping for the past couple weeks, so I'm having him introduce me to his mystery lady to cheer him up.> Marco gave a short wave, and you could almost hear Nic's grunt of acknowledgement. <You'll get a kick out of her, she's a fuckin' trip. Watch yourself, though,> Nicolas smirked as he finished his reply. <I would ask why, but I'll take my chances,> you shot back, enjoying the glint in his eye. <Better not keep her waiting, she gets feisty. Kinda like you,> he smirked, giving a ghost of a wave to Marco, who took the hint and walked a few paces away. 

You approached Benriya, stopping a few feet from the main street, gesturing something meant for Nicolas' eyes only, <I miss your stupid face. See you soon...be safe, dummy.> A softness tugged at the sharp angles of his features, mirrored in the faint, tender, smile he gave you. <You, too. Dummy.> He paused, something briefly passing across his face that you didn't have time to register. <I miss...all of you.> The blush that crept up your neck was impossible to hide, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Nor could you mask the huge smile spreading across your mouth. You made a show of blowing him a kiss, knowing this was all you could do for now. 

But _damn_ , was the slow, cheesy grin he gave you worth it. <God, woman. You're turning me into a sap,> he flicked his large hands through the air fluidly, and you found yourself wishing you could feel them on your skin. <You love it, and you know it. Don't try to sell me anything to the contrary,> your cheeks were beginning to hurt from constantly grinning, but you didn't want this moment to end. Sadly, though, you were expected elsewhere. A soft cough from the street behind you reminded you of that fact. Glancing behind you for a moment, you met Marco's eye, and knew you'd stayed long enough. Turning back toward Nicolas' window to say goodbye, you were disappointed to realize he wasn't in it anymore. You huffed softly, and started slowly back towards Marco. The sound of a door slamming behind you drew your attention backwards once more. As you turned to investigate, you came face to face with a slightly winded Nicolas.

You were certain the look of surprise on his face matched yours, as though even _he_ was amazed he'd run down to catch you. But he quickly recovered, barely glancing over your shoulder to Marco before he tugged you up into the only stairwell in the alley. You threw an apologetic look to your _extremely_ patient friend as Nic pulled you out of sight. Once the two of you were alone, your back was against the wall, his hand slid behind your head and his lips were on yours. You squeaked softly in surprise, before you melted against him, hands sliding up his chest. Gripping the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, you greedily ate up the affection he poured into the kiss. You'd never felt so touch-starved in your life, and you would happily take all he was willing to give you in this very moment. The seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, then years.

After what seemed an eternity, he slowly pulled his mouth away. Resting his forehead against yours, you both panted lightly to catch your breath. His intense gaze was softened by the small lopsided grin he wore. He slid his mouth to the shell of your ear, his breath pleasantly warm. Heat shot up your spine as you felt his lips brush against your skin. Then, his deep grumble sent a most delicious shiver through your body. "Couldn't let you leave without a proper kiss," you choked down a gasp when his mouth lightly grazed the top of your ear, "Just wouldn't be right." 

When he shifted back far enough to see your whole face, you tried to muster an annoyed expression. However, it was ruined by the prominent blush painted across your cheeks, and the happiness shining in your eyes. He kissed the tip of your nose suddenly, and you didn't bother fighting your smile. His hand ran through the length of your hair, lightly rubbing the silky strands between the pads of his fingers. You watched the action with interest, heart tightening at the gentle motion. "Your hair's getting long," he said quietly, flicking his dark gaze back to you after a beat. You chuckled softly. "It is, isn't it? Guess it's been a while since I've had a chance to get it cut." Nic grunted, sliding his hand through your hair once more. "Don't mind it. Looks good," he replied, lightly pulling on the strands between his fingertips. You felt heat creeping across your cheeks yet again.

Gently tugging him back down, you pressed your mouth against his. He let a relieved sigh out through his nose, and you felt yourself smile against his lips. After a few moments longer, you both separated, locking gazes as you cooled off. "To be continued, huh?" he mumbled, that same look from before shining in his half-lidded eyes. You smiled sweetly, bringing a thumb up to his lips and nodding. "Yeah. Definitely." He playfully nipped at your finger, and you yelped, flicking the tip of his nose. He chuckled, the sound low, and pleasant. Reluctantly, he slipped his arms free, and led you back down to the alley. <Better get your cute little ass moving before Marco's girl smacks the both of ya,> he gestured towards the man waiting for you. Ignoring the mildly crude compliment, you agreed. Trailing a hand down his arm, you briefly linked your fingers together as you walked away. One tight squeeze was all you gave each other, before your hands fell apart and the full length of the alley was soon between you. After an extended lingering gaze back at Nicolas, you finally followed after Marco, quietly apologizing for keeping him so long.

* * *

 

What you didn't see after you left, was the way Nicolas leaned against the cool stone wall in the alley, staring at his fingertips as though rubbing them together could summon you to him. He had questioned himself, only for a moment, as to why he had felt compelled to rush down after you. But the instant he pressed his lips to yours, it was all the answer he needed. He'd done a lot of dangerous and reckless things in his life, there was no disputing that. The collection of scars and marks littering his body was proof enough. But not once, in all these years, had he felt as nervous as he did when it came to you. 

Nicolas was a man of very few words, choosing to mind his own business unless absolutely necessary. Up until recently, he'd been okay with that. He knew who he was, _what_ he was. Hell, he'd made a life, and a name, for himself in Ergastulum. Doing the behind-the-scenes business that made others blanch. He liked the job he had now; it suited him. And, if not for it, he may never have met you. From the first day he saw you, Nicolas was inexplicably drawn to you. Worick had asked him once what about you caught his attention, he'd simply said your eyes. Perhaps it would have been more accurate to say he was captivated by the way your eyes looked when they were focused on him. 

After he'd begun to get to know you, and talk to you more, he was intrigued by your quick wit. Not to mention the way you absolutely did not put up with Worick's roaming hands. The blond often forgot that most people were not nearly as tactile as him. Nicolas almost burst out laughing the first time you smacked his partner hard enough to make the man spit out his cigarette. Then there was the day they'd visited Blue King during one of your shifts. When you revealed you'd been learning to sign in your free time, Nic couldn't deny the odd tug in his chest. Not even a second later, he'd noticed your bruised cheek; he felt himself grow unreasonably angry, and even in the moment, he'd questioned himself. _You barely knew her then, why did you care?_

Not even a full day later, he and his partner were breaking down your front door after Worick heard your screams. For a moment, Nicolas only saw you: barely conscious, barely clothed, and _covered in blood_. Your hazy eyes found his just as his vision clouded over in shades of red, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. The next thing he knew, his knuckles were split wide open, and your assailant was on the ground underneath him, face barely recognizable. When you told him you didn't want the man dead, he was understandably shocked. But, you were right, the bastard deserved to pay for what he'd done. By spending the rest of his life in prison, regretting his actions til the day he died. Nico still wished he'd gotten a few more hits in. 

Nic had then insisted on carrying you to Theo's clinic himself. The whole way there, his anger melted away, replaced by the intense wave of dread sweeping over him. His heart stuck in his throat as he watched Nina and Theo patch you up. He would never admit that his stomach bottomed out more than once during the procedure. Seeing you sleeping peacefully afterwards, chest softly rising and falling with each breath, Nicolas knew. Even then, he knew. You were already so precious to him, for some inexplicable reason. He didn't want to lose you. And he wanted to make damn sure you knew it. 

That first kiss was...more than he could have ever expected, really. It was soft, and warm. Those things he'd experienced before. But the way his heart pounded an erratic rhythm inside his chest? That was new. He'd never felt such a rush; it was addicting. And when his tongue met yours? _Damn_. Your sweet flavor exploded inside his mouth, and he could hardly keep up. Thankfully his body took over when his mind failed him. The soft smile spread across your face, and the dreamy look in your eyes afterwards was an expression he treasured seeing.

All that had happened between then and now kind of made Nic's head swim a little if he was being honest. From you revealing you'd grown up a Hunter, to learning that Uranos Corsica was close with your father, and finally, the attack on Bastard; things seemed to be building, as things tended to do. And in the back of his mind, Nicolas knew that when the shit finally hit the fan, it was going to be ugly. But, Ergastulum was a violent city, so something of that nature was to be expected. That fact did little to soothe the unease deep in Nic's gut. He had a sinking suspicion that someone close to you was going to betray you, but wasn't yet sure enough to bring it up to his partner.

A sudden smack on his shoulder drew the man's attention behind him. _Speak of the devil_. Worick regarded his friend with an odd look, "What are you doing out here?" <Stargazing, what does it look like?> Sarcasm soaked the shorter man's expression, prompting the other to roll his eyes. "Yeah, right. Last time I saw you zone out like that was after (Y/N) left for Bastard. I swear you stared at that street for more than an hour," the blond stated, handing a small takeout bag to the man. Nicolas grumbled under his breath, digging into the sack and popping a piece of chicken into his mouth. Worick hummed, noting the relaxed set of his partner's shoulders. A sly smile slipped across the man's face as a thought occurred to him. Nicolas froze mid-throw as he saw the blond's grin, staring at him pointedly and raising a brow in question. 

"(Y/N) was here, wasn't she?" The faint reddening of Nic's cheeks and the set of his jaw was all the answer Worick needed. He chuckled softly, his grin widening, "Knew it. Did you give her a warm welcome? Or...perhaps...a _fond farewell_?" Nicolas all but choked on his food, punching his partner in the arm, _hard_. <You're a fucking pervert,> the dark-haired man shot back. "Ah, ya got me. What was she doing in our neck of the woods?" Worick settled back against the wall, rummaging around in his own bag. <Adriano was taking her to meet his woman,> Nic replied, pausing as a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, <(Y/N) must have stopped when she saw me in the window.>

"So she's finally meeting Connie, huh? That should be interesting. How'd you know she was there?" the blond inquired, taking a bite of his food. His partner tapped his nose pointedly, and Worick's face settled in recognition. "Right. Sometimes I forget that part about you. Guess you're like a bloodhound when it comes to (Y/N), huh?" Worick's grin was back, causing Nicolas to roll his eyes. "She's something else, isn't she?" he continued, a strangely fond look passing over his features. "Hn," came Nic's short laugh, <You can say that again. That woman is trouble with a capital 'T'.> "Yeah, but she's the kind of trouble I wouldn't mind having to deal with all the time," Worick stated, wiggling his eyebrows at his partner.

Nic's quiet growl, paired with the exasperated look in his eyes, didn't really surprise the blond. He put his hands up in a mock surrender, "Only kidding. I'm not stupid, you know. Besides, I can only focus on one woman at a time." Nicolas narrowed his eyes at the man for a moment before returning to his food. A comfortable quiet fell between the men for a while, accompanied by the soft sounds of rustling paper and contented munching. Nicolas was the first to break the silence, surprisingly, his voice so low Worick almost didn't hear it. 

"I think someone's spying on her."

* * *

 

"So I'm an idiot, huh?" Marco's sudden question startled you, and your face flushed in embarrassment. _Shit, I forgot he knows some sign_. "Uhhh, yeah. Sorry about that. It's been pretty obvious you've had a lot on your mind lately. Probably could've...phrased that..differently." Marco chuckled softly, nudging your arm lightly. "I was teasing. I'm grateful you're looking out for me," he smiled, letting you know all was forgiven. "Well, duh. How are you supposed to protect Miss Cristiano if you're thinkin' about other shit??" you grinned in return, gently smacking his shoulder. "Right. Of course," his attention was drawn to the street in front of you as he noted your surroundings, "Almost there." 

Your heartbeat sped up slightly as your thoughts raced a bit. _I wonder what she'll be like...Nic said she's feisty. Makes sense, Marco always was more drawn to the ones with a bit of fire in 'em._ You watched with interest as the tightly wound coil in your old friend's shoulders slowly faded with each step closer to your destination. A softness eased the hard lines of his face, and you smiled to yourself. _She must be one hell of a woman._

'One hell of a woman,' was the understatement of the century. When the two of you walked through the door of the small gun shop, an equally small, slender woman flung herself directly into his arms. Marco was quick to catch her, holding her close to him as they reveled in each other's presence. _Hmm, feels familiar..._ Your musing was interrupted when the woman realized you were standing behind her dark-haired lover. "Ah! You must be (Y/N)!" You barely had time to prepare yourself before she bombarded you with a bear of a hug. Unused to such affection from strangers, you gave Marco a slightly panicked look. He simply chuckled, "Constance, give the poor woman some room to breathe."

Begrudgingly releasing her hold on you, she gave you a beaming smile. "Sorry, I guess I got a little too excited. It's just...Marco's told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already! And a handshake seemed too formal...but," she took a step backwards, extending a hand towards you, "It's a good place to start, right?" You returned her brilliant smile with a reassuring one of your own, clasping her hand firmly, "Yeah, for sure." "Constance Raveau, but just call me Connie, kay?" she gave a small wink, grabbing your hand between both of hers. "(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). It's nice to finally meet you," you grinned, before something dawned on you, "Wait, did you say Rave-"

"Well, well. I didn't know you'd be getting visitors today, Constance. I would have brought more groceries." You were cut off by a familiar voice behind you. Turning your head sharply, your gaze met that of none other than Joel Raveau. "Grandma!" Connie exclaimed, rushing over to embrace the elder woman. "So she _is_ your grandmother, then," you stated, mostly to yourself. Marco was close enough to hear you though, and he smiled at your words, "I take it you two have already met?" "I think she was still living with the Handymen when I saw her last," Granny beat you to the punch, her sharp eyes focusing on your scarred cheek, "Although she looks a hell of a lot better now, than she did then."

"Ah, yeah. Have to agree with you there. Got some cool scars out of that whole ordeal, though," you replied, keeping your tone light, even as a hand subconsciously drifted over your waist. The motion didn't go unnoticed by your friend, and he quickly turned the topic to something else. "Do you have enough supplies for dinner, or should I pick something up quick?" His question was for Connie, who took a moment to think about it. "Well, maybe for something basic, but we should splurge a little. After all, I wanna celebrate! I finally got to meet (Y/N)!" Her energy was infectious, and you couldn't help the smile you felt tugging at your mouth. "It's settled then. Marco, Connie, go fetch some extra ingredients. I'll keep our girl, here, company," Granny stated, waving them on their way. The pair nodded, before Marco offered his arm in a dramatic fashion, and Constance accepted it in an equally exaggerated manner.

After they had left, you helped Granny close up the shop for the day and headed upstairs. A peaceful aura permeated the small apartment, and yet, you couldn't help but feel slightly out of place. As though your presence brought a shadow over the space. Unsure of what to do, you lingered near the doorway, sweeping your eyes across the room. "You can sit down, girly. I don't bite, you know," Ms. Raveau said, without looking up from what she was doing. "R-Right," you cursed yourself internally for making things awkward, but you weren't quite sure how to behave around this woman. Taking a seat at the kitchen island, you fell silent again, quietly watching her work.

"Your wounds have healed nicely," she stated matter-of-factly, finally lifting her eyes to you. "Ah! Yeah...the bruising probably took the longest to fade, but...," you rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment, "All things considered, it could have been a lot worse." She regarded you with an odd expression you couldn't quite decipher, narrowing her eyes slightly. Plopping down a cutting board and some vegetables before you suddenly, she slid a knife across the counter. "I assume you can manage dicing those up for me?" she said after a moment, leveling a stern look in your direction.

"Yes, ma'am!"

* * *

 

Constance and Marco returned a short time later, Marco toting a large grocery bag, while Connie was protectively clutching a tall, skinny paper sack. She excitedly hid it away in the fridge, stating, "It's a surprise! You have to wait 'til after dinner to see what it is!" You already had a pretty good guess, but you didn't want to spoil her happy mood, so you let it be. Since you'd already helped with most of the prep-work, you took a back seat, content to watch the pair's domestic movements. It was almost sickeningly obvious how deeply your friend and his partner cared for one another. But, it filled you with a sense of peace. With everything that had been happening lately, it was calming to watch the two of them. 

Marco had made himself at home, draping his jacket over the back of a chair, and his sleeves had been rolled up to the elbows. Connie would lean her head on his shoulder as they worked side-by-side. The sight brought a fond smile to your face, and you briefly thought of a different dark-haired man. "That's a good look you got there, girl. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had something on your mind," Granny's quiet voice caught your attention as she eased into a seat beside you, "Or perhaps some _one_." You ignored Connie's quiet, " _Busted!_ ", in the background. Your face flushed for a moment, knowing you'd been caught before you relaxed back into the chair, "Something like that, I guess."

You focused on the couple in front of the stove, smiling as you watched Connie pout when Marco pulled her hand away from stealing morsels out of the pan. "They...work well. Together, I mean. It's nice. Someone like us finding...this," you gestured briefly to pair, who were now in a silent battle, seeing who could land more pokes on the other's side. "You say that as if you know what he's done in the past," the woman replied, paying close attention to the way you had said " _us_ " instead of " _him_ ". _More than you could ever know, Granny..._ "Let's just say he and I....aren't that different," you turned your gaze out the window, noting how far the sun had fallen since you'd arrived. She hummed decisively before standing with some effort. "Well, whatever it was...you're _here_ , now. So focus on that." You nodded, letting your small, weary smile be your answer.

The dinner Marco and Connie had prepared was the most delicious thing you'd eaten in a while. Not that the food at Bastard was terrible, per se, there was just something about a home-cooked meal you couldn't replace. The conversation was comfortable, and it was intriguing to watch how the three interacted with each other. The tender smile on Marco's face made it worth the trip, and you chuckled to yourself as the couple tried to discreetly tickle each other under the table. Granny shook her head at their antics, but the content look on her face spoke volumes. 

After everyone's plates had been cleared away, Connie excitedly retrieved her surprise from the fridge. Marco assisted her, carrying four glasses back to the table. With a flourish, she pulled off the paper bag, revealing a bottle of sweet, red wine. "I woulda bought something harder, but that can be for another time," Connie stated, winking at you. A hopeful smile spread across her face after a moment, and it dawned on you that her comment was just as much an invitation as if she'd point-blank asked. You smiled warmly, a pleasant feeling settling in your gut, "Sure, thing! It'll be my treat next time." The woman all but squealed with excitement, barely settling down to pop the cork off. There was just enough for each of you to have nearly a full glass, and you welcomed the familiar fuzziness that soon spread through your body. 

The sun had set completely by the time you finished your drink, being the last one to do so. Connie had downed hers a little too fast, and by the way she was leaning on Marco, you could tell she was a bit tipsy. You had a comfortable buzz going yourself, but there was a hazy look in her eyes that you knew all too well. Marco gently mumbled something in her ear, and a goofy smile spread across her face. With his help, she stood, and warmly wished you a good night. Perhaps the wine had gotten to you more than you thought, because when she tentatively extended her hand, you pulled her into a hug. Startled for only a second, she was quick to squeeze you tightly, and you could feel the happiness radiating from her. After a long moment, she released you in favor of clutching Marco's arm. 

He sweetly offered to carry her, to which she gladly agreed, and they disappeared down the hallway together. A similar scene flashed through your head, and a soft smile spread across your face. _Nicolas._ The fond, faraway look in your eyes as you stared after them must have been obvious, with the way Granny Raveau lightly touched your arm. You jolted, having forgotten where you were for a moment. "Child, whoever's the cause of that look on your face, better be damn deserving of it," the stern warmth in her voice was startling, almost... _motherly_ , in a way. The light in her eyes was familiar, and you felt a tear gather at the corners of your own. Your chest tightened something terrible, and for the first time in _years_ , you thought of your own mother, and her unfortunate end.

Joel felt a sense of sadness pass through her as she recognized the lost, pained expression that darkened your face. "It's alright," she said after a minute, "You don't always have to keep everything to yourself, girl." The lump in your throat abated slightly, and you turned to the woman with a slim tear trail running down your cheek. "I'm...", you looked away suddenly, wiping your face clean, "I'm just very... _tired_. That's all, Granny." It was partially true, your statement. You _were_ tired. Always. Perpetually. _Tired_. Just not in the conventional sense. No, your constant exhaustion was embedded deep within you. Carved into your bones; burned into your soul.

The elder woman watched you carefully, examining your expression. Your body language. Trying to determine just how the girl- no, _woman_ \- in front of her had earned such an oppressive aura. You clearly tried to shrug it off as no big deal, oh, how you _tried_. But it spilled out in ways few would notice. The down-turned, almost default set of your mouth. How you wouldn't look anyone in the eyes for very long if in an informal situation. _Except for that Tag,_ she mused to herself. The slump of your shoulders, paired with the hollow look in your eyes that you were quick to erase when you felt someone was focused on you. _What exactly has this girl seen?_

Granny Raveau seemed highly unconvinced, if the unimpressed hum she gave was anything to go by. For a second you wondered if she could _see_ what you bore on your shoulders. But if she did notice, if she _could_ see past your bullshit and deflecting, she chose not to comment. And you weren't quite sure if that made you feel better, or worse. "Just know," she started, making sure she had your attention, "If you ever get so... _tired_...that you want to quit: Don't." You stared at her owlishly, briefly wondering if she had known you in a past life. 

"Remember this, child, everything always ends, on it's _own_ time."

The words should have horrified you. Should have made you want to curl in on yourself and let your sorrows swallow you whole. 

And yet, you couldn't ignore the upward twitch of your lips, and the slight nod you gave in reply.

* * *

 

Once Marco had made sure Connie was safely asleep, he reappeared in the kitchen area. Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, he approached you and Joel. "Ready to head back?" he asked gently, drawing your attention. The sudden darkness in your eyes caught him off guard for a moment, but it was gone so fast he wondered if he'd imagined it. "Yeah, I think so," you replied slowly, your eyes scanning the room behind him for anything you might have forgotten. Stretching your limbs out briefly, you stood, turning to the elder woman. "Good night, Granny. It was nice to see you again." She nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at her mouth. "Take care of yourself, (Y/N)," she gave you a knowing look, "And next time, give me a heads-up."

The two of you headed down towards the street, one of you feeling much lighter than when they had arrived. The other, not so much. Once you were several blocks away, Marco broke the silence. "Are you alright, (Y/N)?" his gentle question didn't surprise you. It would have been obvious to most that you had a lot on your mind at the moment. "Why do you ask?" was your reply, instead of a proper answer. _Stop deflecting._ "Well...you seem a little...off? That's all," he stated, putting his hands in his pockets. _Perceptive as always, huh, Marco._ "You could say that," you answered partially, pausing as you mulled through your thoughts briefly, "It's been a very long time since I've done something as, _normal_ , as tonight."

Your friend made a noise of recognition, waiting for you to continue. "Joel and Constance are good women. I can tell," you stated, changing the subject and making little effort to hide that fact. If he noticed, he chose not to comment. "Yes. Very protective, and hard as nails," he replied, a fond tone in his voice, "Did you know, they hated me when they first met me?" You sputtered at the thought, casting a disbelieving glance at him, "No. Seriously??" He nodded, taking a moment before he carried on, "I'm fairly certain Joel still does, at least partially. It's a long story, for another day." You hummed in agreement, turning your eyes back to the path ahead. 

"We'll be going past the Handymen's place again on the way back," Marco stated after a few thoughtful minutes, giving you a mirthful look. You tried to tone down your reaction, managing to keep all but a smirk and the lift of your brows off your face. "Yes, Marco, I'm aware," you replied smoothly. Waiting, having a feeling you knew where this was going. He shrugged in a noncommittal manner, "I know. I thought perhaps seeing a certain someone might distract you for a bit."

"Now who's watching whose back here?" you retorted, laughing as you noticed the grin on your friend's face. He turned to look at you directly, "No, really. We can stop by for a proper visit this time, if you'd like." You thought it over for a second, before nodding your head briefly. "I suppose it wouldn't be a bad idea. Better make sure Worick isn't driving Nic and Alex insane," you laughed to yourself at the last part. Marco couldn't help snorting at the idea, knowing just how intense Worick could get. "It's settled then."

A few short blocks later found the two of you standing in the street below Worick and Nicolas' home, noting that the lights were on, and you could hear a quiet, delicate voice. _And Alex's, too now._ Smiling, you reminded yourself of the dark-skinned beauty that caught Worick's eye. _Not like she could catch both of them, anyway._ You snorted at the thought, waving off Marco's curious gaze. "Funny thought. I'll tell you later," your reply seemed to satisfy him, and the man led you up the stairs. 

If you hadn't already been focused on the landing above, you would have missed the way Marco stiffened when he saw the shoe impression on your old front door. He glanced back at you quickly, and you didn't fail to notice the hint of color that had drained from his face. Nor did you miss the flick of his eyes to your cheek. Again, you waved it off, giving a smile that was more for his benefit than yours. The look he gave you was understanding, but protective. You could've laughed at the thought, but thought better of it.

Instead, you waited patiently behind him as he raised his hand to knock on the Handyman's door. Except his hand never touched the wood, because it was ripped open before he could do so. And in the doorway stood the very person you had come to see. Nicolas' calculating eyes fell on Marco, narrowing questioningly, before they found you. The way his face lit up, however minutely, made you want to sing, but you simply smiled, giving him a small wave in greeting. <Hey, dummy. Miss me?>

"Oh, you're...from Bastard, right?" Alex's voice came from behind Nic and your smile grew as she noticed you were also present. "(Y/N)! What are you doing here?" she asked brightly, and in that moment, you realized how _nice_ it was to have people that were happy to see you. Nicolas gestured for the two of you to come in, looking down the stairs briefly before closing the door. Alex rushed over to you, and you attempted to hide the way you flinched at the sudden action. She must have noticed, and quickly played it off, pulling your hands into hers. _Thank god, I don't think I could handle two surprise hugs in one day. Well, three, I guess. Although I'd hardly count getting kissed against a wall as a surprise hug._ "How are you doing? Are things going well at the club?" she inquired, a genuine smile on her face. 

"Marco! And, do my eyes deceive me? (Y/N)? To what do we owe this little house-call?" Worick's voice drew your attention to the other side of the room. The blond was exiting his room, shirtless, in true Worick fashion. The towel around his neck and a fresh scent in the air suggested he had just showered. "Hey, Worick. Sorry for such short notice, we were in the area. Hope you don't mind that we stopped by," your friend offered before you had a chance to reply. The man merely grinned, sending a knowing wink- could someone with only one eye wink? Or was it considered blinking at that point?- your way. 

"Not a problem at all, pal. Why don't you guys take a seat? I'm sure we've got something around here to drink," as he patted at his damp locks, he shot a look at his partner. Nicolas was already moving towards the fridge, pulling out several bottles of water. Alex squeezed your hands briefly before releasing them and taking a seat in one of the single-person chairs. You elected to plop down on the far end of the couch; Marco took the opposite end, leaving space between you. Worick, having since pulled on the nearest shirt he could find, flopped into the remaining armchair. 

"So I hear you met Connie today, how did that go? She's intense, right?" Worick chirped, looking between you and Marco. Your friend chuckled quietly as you responded, "She's great! But yeah, a _lot_ of energy for such a tiny woman." Worick nodded and Alex smiled knowingly. "She definitely doesn't hold anything back, that's for damn sure," the blond commented. His partner appeared beside him, handing the man a drink before passing out the remaining ones. "Who knew you were such a great host, Nic?" Worick said, a cheesy grin spreading across his face. The man in question simply glowered at his friend, flopping down beside you on the couch. 

Nicolas handed you one of the last two bottles, slinging his arm across the back of the sofa behind you. Smiling, you gestured a thank-you to him before taking a drink. The others struck up a conversation in the meantime; there was rarely an opportunity to enjoy such a casual situation. You were content to observe, throwing in the occasional sarcastic comment, or poke fun at Worick. You didn't miss the way Alex's eyes were almost always turned in the blond's direction, or the tender smile on her face as she listened to him talk. Smiling to yourself, you tucked yourself into Nicolas' side without realizing it. He stiffened for a moment, barely glancing at Worick, who was currently busy trying to embarrass the dark-skinned beauty seated near him.

Forcing himself to relax, he let his arm curl around you, reminding himself that the others had literally watched him carry you. This was hardly the first time the two of you had been affectionate in the presence of your friends. In the past, Nicolas would have been extremely uncomfortable with this. But somehow, you had managed to break through his tough demeanor. Not that he was completely unbothered by it. He merely found himself looking forward to the next time you'd be in his arms. Which was so _very dangerous_. Ergastulum did not often let something so tender slip by for long. And yet, Nic was willing to test those odds, fate be damned.

A light tapping on his arm shook Nicolas from his thoughts, and he looked down to find you gazing at him with a concerned expression. <OK?> you signed, brows furrowing slightly when he stared at you for just a moment too long. _Cute_ , Nicolas mused internally before assuring you he was fine, <Just checked out for a minute.> Your expression smoothed in understanding, smiling softly before turning back to rejoin the conversation. He didn't think you even noticed yourself leaning against him further, but he couldn't deny the way his chest swelled at the motion. Nico turned his attention to the others as well, focusing on the witty back-and-forth between Marco and Worick.

Some time later, it became evident that the Benriya needed to turn in for the night. Alex was curled up in her armchair, fast asleep. Even Worick, who was excellent at masking his exhaustion, let a yawn slip. The blond stood, making a show of stretching his muscles, prompting a soft laugh from you and Marco. "Well gang, it's been fun, but I'm going to hit the hay," Worick stated, giving a mock salute before scooping up Alex's sleeping form and disappearing into his bedroom. Marco was the next to rise from the couch, softly telling you that he'd wait just outside the front door for you. 

When you gave him a questioning look, he simply pointed at Nicolas before slipping out the door. Turning your face to the man whose arm was still wrapped around you, a smile spread across your face as you realized he had fallen asleep sitting up. Trying to wake him as gently as possible, you pressed your lips against his neck. He groaned slightly, yet refused to open his eyes. You laughed quietly, and Nic felt your breath tickle his skin. The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and still, his eyes remained closed. 

Feeling just a touch mischievous, you smirked as you sat a little straighter. Once more you kissed his neck softly, hearing him hum in satisfaction. Nicolas was very content to stay just the way he was all night, but you weren't having it. Without warning, you sank your teeth into his neck, not enough to pierce his skin, but _just_ enough to get his attention. Nic's eyes flew open as he grunted in surprise, turning his head to glare at you. Instead, he snorted when he noticed the shit-eating grin on your face, paired with an impish glint in your eyes. 

<Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,> you teased, laughing as Nicolas rolled his eyes. <Where did the others go?> he responded, just now realizing the two of you were alone in the room. <Worick and Alex went to bed already. Marco's waiting outside for me,> you answered, before stretching your arms above your head. Nic grunted his reply, gazing down at you sleepily. Even through the exhaustion in his eyes, you could see his adoration, usually locked away when he was more coherent. Smiling, you pushed yourself off the couch, dragging the tired man up with you. He grumbled softly in annoyance, but followed you regardless. 

Standing before the front door, you slipped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you. He was quick to return the embrace, squeezing you tightly against him. The two of you remained like that for some time, savoring the contact. Before long, however, you felt him slump against you, and you knew he desperately need rest. Drawing back slightly, you took his face in your hands. His half-lidded eyes regarded you with a deep affection, and he leaned down to press his mouth to yours. Despite the fact you had seen one another earlier that day, you both let out a sigh of relief. As though every kiss between you proved to the other that you were still here. Were still alive.

After a few minutes, Nicolas pulled back, a different light shining in his dark gaze. The weight of it enveloped you, as your hands fell from his face to his chest. He stared at you for a bit, before softly mumbling your name. "Yes?" you replied, almost breathlessly. Another extended pause sent your heart fluttering, as you watched his tired eyes become more aware. Suddenly, a pink tinge burst across his cheeks, and he buried his face against your neck. You chuckled softly, knowing whatever he was trying to say was something new for him, and that he was embarrassed. Your hand came up to stroke the back of his head, and he leaned into you as he hummed his gratification.

The breath caught in your throat as his lips abruptly brushed against your ear. His deep voice little more than a stuttering whisper, "I...I love you." Your mouth fell open in shock, your hand stilling at the nape of his neck. Happy tears gathered in your eyes, as your chest swelled almost painfully. Feeling Nic stiffen after a few moments as he started to pull away, you realized, rather belatedly, that you had not yet responded. Before he could get far, you gently took his face between your hands once more. Fear that you would reject him flared up in his stomach, and he waited with bated breath as you stared into his eyes, not letting him escape. He watched your soft lips part, focusing intently on the words you were forming. 

"I love you, Nicolas Brown."


End file.
